Chapter 8
I recognized Victor Lane's name immediately.
He had worked as a financial broker on two commercial projects for my construction company.
I hadn't spoken to him in more than a year.
The realization made my stomach tighten.
"Robert, are you sure?"
"His name and license information appear in the lender's records."
I rubbed my forehead.
"How did Derrick know Victor?"
"That's something investigators will need to determine."
I stood beside Denise's kitchen table, staring at my daughter.
She was watching me with frightened eyes.
I forced myself to breathe normally.
"Robert, does this mean my company is involved?"
"Not necessarily. We need to distinguish what the documents claim from what actually happened."
I nodded.
"What's next?"
"We preserve the evidence, notify the appropriate parties, and cooperate with the investigation."
After hanging up, I explained the development to Jasmine and Denise.
Jasmine looked horrified.
"Dad, could somebody use your business information too?"
"It's possible they tried. I'm having everything reviewed."
Denise leaned back.
"This keeps getting worse."
I couldn't disagree.
But something had changed inside me.
I was no longer standing still, hoping the problem would disappear.
I was ready to face whatever the truth required.
The next day, I met with my company's accountant, Thomas Reed.
Thomas had worked with me for eleven years.
He was careful, honest, and frustratingly thorough.
That morning, I was grateful for every one of those qualities.
We reviewed vendor payments, unusual invoices, and recent changes to authorized users.
At first, everything seemed normal.
Then Thomas found an invoice for consulting services.
The amount was twelve thousand dollars.
The recipient was a company I didn't recognize.
"What is this?" I asked.
Thomas frowned.
"I was going to ask you about that."
"Who approved it?"
He checked the record.
"The invoice came through an old vendor contact associated with Victor Lane. But the payment was never released."
I exhaled.
"Why not?"
"Because nobody could identify the project."
I stared at him.
"Thank God."
Thomas looked troubled.
"Marcus, I think someone assumed we wouldn't question it."
I nodded.
"Check every related invoice. Preserve everything."
He agreed.
Over the following days, the picture became clearer.
Victor had introduced Derrick to a lender.
Derrick had submitted financial documents containing information connected to my household.
Nia had participated in the property paperwork.
And at least one application carried a signature I denied making.
There were still questions.
Who had prepared the false documents?
Who had received the money?
What had each person known?
But for the first time, the evidence was moving toward answers.
Jasmine was also beginning to recover.
Maya helped her submit additional documentation to the credit bureaus and creditors.
The accounts were formally identified as disputed.
The collection agency was notified.
Jasmine began keeping a folder of every letter and confirmation number.
One evening, I sat beside her while she worked.
She looked at me.
"Dad, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why did you marry Nia?"
The question surprised me.
I considered my answer carefully.
"Because I was lonely."
Jasmine looked down.
"After Mom?"
I nodded.
"After your mother died, I didn't know how to live in that house without her."
She was quiet.
"I thought I needed to start over," I continued. "And Nia made me feel like I could."
"Did you love her?"
"Yes."
Jasmine nodded.
I took a breath.
"But I made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"I believed loving someone meant defending them whenever anyone questioned them."
She looked toward me.
"I didn't want you to be lonely."
My throat tightened.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She continued.
"When you started dating Nia, I tried so hard to like her."
"I know."
"No, Dad. I really tried."
"I believe you."
She wiped her eyes.
"I thought if she liked me, we'd be a family again."
I felt tears gathering in my own eyes.
"We were already a family, Jasmine."
She looked up.
"Then why did it feel like I lost you?"
I couldn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was painful.
I had been so focused on rebuilding my own happiness that I hadn't noticed my daughter quietly grieving another loss.
Not a death.
A distance.
A father who kept asking her to understand.
A father who didn't ask enough questions.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She shook her head.
"Dad, you keep saying that."
"Because I mean it."
"I know."
She reached for my hand.
"I just want us to be different now."
I squeezed her fingers.
"We will be."
That weekend, Nia asked to meet me at Robert's office.
I agreed after discussing it with Robert.
She arrived without Derrick.
She looked exhausted.
Her hair was pulled back.
She wore no jewelry.
When she sat across from me, she couldn't meet my eyes.
"I've brought everything I could find," she said.
She placed a thick envelope on the table.
Robert took it.
Nia swallowed.
"I need to tell the truth."
I waited.
"Derrick came to me six months ago. He said his business was failing."
She stared at her hands.
"He owed money. He said he might lose everything."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you had already helped him. I knew you'd refuse."
I nodded slowly.
"So you went behind my back."
"Yes."
She began crying.
"He told me the credit applications were temporary. He said he'd pay them off before Jasmine ever knew."
I stared at her.
"And after you found out he used her name?"
"I should have stopped him."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I was afraid."
"Of Derrick?"
She nodded.
"And of you finding out what I'd done."
Robert quietly took notes.
Nia continued.
"I was afraid you'd leave me."
I looked at her.
"So you decided Jasmine should carry the consequences."
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
"No. I don't think you do."
My voice trembled.
"She was afraid to answer her door. She thought her father wouldn't believe her. She was losing sleep because of debts she never created."
Nia began sobbing.
"I know I hurt her."
I leaned forward.
"You hurt her long before the money."
She stared at me.
"I heard the recording."
Her face crumpled.
"I said terrible things."
"Yes."
"I was jealous."
I went still.
"Of my daughter?"
Nia nodded.
"Every time you talked about her, I felt like I was competing with Angela."
I stared at her in disbelief.
"Angela was dead, Nia."
"I know."
"And Jasmine was a child who lost her mother."
Nia covered her face.
I looked away.
For years, I had tried to understand the tension between them.
Now it sounded painfully simple.
My wife had resented the space in my heart that belonged to my daughter.
And instead of facing her own jealousy, she had punished Jasmine for being loved.
"I want a divorce," I said.
Nia looked up sharply.
"Marcus, please."
I felt my eyes sting.
"I can't stay married to someone who made my daughter afraid of me."
She cried harder.
Robert remained silent.
Nia whispered, "Can you ever forgive me?"
I took a long breath.
"Maybe someday. But forgiveness doesn't mean I can trust you again."
For a moment, she seemed unable to speak.
Then she nodded.
"I understand."
She signed the document acknowledging receipt of the separation proposal.
When the meeting ended, I stood.
Nia looked at me one last time.
"I really did love you."
I felt tears slide down my face.
"I loved you too."
Then I walked out.
Outside, my phone rang.
It was Maya.
She sounded cautiously hopeful.
"Marcus, I have some good news about Jasmine's credit accounts."
I stopped beside my car.
"What happened?"
"One creditor has completed its investigation and confirmed the account was opened fraudulently."
My eyes closed.
Finally.
Something was moving in the right direction.
But Maya wasn't finished.
"There's more," she said.
"The records obtained during the review contain a transaction trail investigators are interested in."
I swallowed.
"Where does it lead?"
May you like
She paused.
"To an account connected to Derrick's company."
