Chapter 5
Three days passed before my mother came home.
By then, everything had changed.
My father had secured my personal documents as well as he could.
Patricia had helped me report the identity theft.
We had challenged the fraudulent loan.
And Bellmont University was reviewing my scholarship.
I spent most of those three days in my bedroom, trying to understand how the woman who raised me could have betrayed me so completely.
Every childhood memory felt different.
Every compliment.
Every sacrifice.
Every time she told me I owed her everything.
I wondered whether she had ever seen me as a daughter instead of someone she could use.
Then, on Thursday evening, I heard the front door open.
"Maya?"
My mother's voice echoed through the hallway.
I froze.
My father came out of his office.
"Denise."
She stood near the entrance carrying a small suitcase.
Her eyes were red.
Her hair looked messy.
She seemed exhausted.
For one brief second, I wanted to run into her arms.
Then I remembered the loan.
The forged documents.
The scholarship.
I stayed where I was.
My mother looked at me.
"Baby, can we talk?"
I shook my head.
"Not alone."
Her face tightened.
"Maya, I'm your mother."
"I know."
The words came out colder than I intended.
My father stepped between us.
"Denise, we need answers."
She set down her suitcase.
"I've made mistakes."
My father stared at her.
"Mistakes?"
She began crying.
"I was desperate."
I folded my arms.
"Then tell us what happened."
My mother sat on the cream-colored sofa.
For several minutes, she couldn't speak.
Then she began telling us about the salon.
Three years earlier, business had slowed.
Her landlord raised the rent.
Several employees quit.
A major supplier demanded payment.
She had borrowed money to keep the business running.
Then Trevor appeared.
He promised an investment opportunity that would solve everything.
He told her that if she contributed funds to his consulting company, he could double the money within eighteen months.
She believed him.
I stared at her.
"So you gave him Grandma's money?"
She nodded.
"At first, just twenty thousand."
My father closed his eyes.
"Denise."
"He promised he'd return it."
"But he didn't."
She shook her head.
"Then he told me the investment needed more capital."
I felt sick.
"How much more?"
She wiped her face.
"Everything."
I stared at her.
"You gave him my entire trust?"
"Almost."
I stood.
My chair scraped against the floor.
"Mom, that was Grandma's gift to me!"
She began crying harder.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
I felt tears running down my face.
"Grandma worked her whole life. She saved that money because she wanted me to have a future."
My mother looked down.
"I thought I could replace it before you needed it."
"But when you couldn't, you tried to keep me from going to college."
She didn't answer.
That silence told me I was right.
My father looked devastated.
"Denise, why didn't you tell me the salon was in trouble?"
She stared at him.
"Because you would have said I failed."
He shook his head.
"No. I would have helped you find a solution."
"You always made everything look easy."
"Nothing was easy."
She looked away.
"I didn't want you to see me as weak."
My father took a slow breath.
"So you decided to steal from our daughter?"
She flinched.
"I didn't think of it that way."
I stepped forward.
"Then how did you think of it?"
She looked at me.
"As borrowing."
I shook my head.
"Borrowing means you ask."
My mother closed her eyes.
I continued.
"You didn't ask. You forged documents. You lied. You tried to destroy my scholarship."
"I was trying to keep everything from falling apart."
"You were trying to keep me from finding out."
She began sobbing.
I wanted to comfort her.
The instinct was almost automatic.
For years, whenever my mother cried, I felt responsible for making her happy.
But this time, I stayed where I was.
My father sat beside her.
"Denise, what about the sixty-five-thousand-dollar loan?"
She covered her face.
"Trevor arranged it."
"Did you know he used Maya's identity?"
She nodded.
My stomach dropped.
"You knew?"
My mother looked at me.
"He said it was temporary."
I stared at her.
"Temporary?"
"He promised the business would repay everything before you turned eighteen."
I felt something inside me go numb.
"And when I got the scholarship?"
She looked away.
"I knew the university might request financial information."
"So you declined it."
She nodded.
I couldn't speak.
For months, I had wondered why my mother became increasingly angry whenever I mentioned college.
Now I knew.
My future threatened to expose her past.
My father stood.
"Denise, you need to cooperate with the investigation."
She looked terrified.
"Marcus, please."
"No."
His voice was firm.
"Our daughter is facing a fraudulent debt because of what you and Trevor did."
She began shaking.
"I could go to prison."
My father looked at her sadly.
"That depends on what happened and what the authorities decide."
She turned toward me.
"Maya, please. Tell them you forgive me."
I stared at her.
"You want me to forgive you so you won't face consequences?"
She began crying again.
"You're my daughter."
I took a shaky breath.
"And you're my mother."
For a moment, I thought I might collapse.
"That's why this hurts so much."
I walked upstairs.
Behind me, I heard my father telling her that she couldn't keep hiding.
I closed my bedroom door.
Then I sat on the floor and cried.
I cried for my grandmother.
For the scholarship I might lose.
For the mother I thought I knew.
And for the little girl I used to be, who believed that being good enough would always make her mother proud.
An hour later, my father knocked.
"Maya?"
I opened the door.
He held an envelope.
"What is it?"
"From Bellmont."
My heart began racing.
I took the envelope.
Inside was a printed letter that the university had sent electronically earlier that afternoon.
I unfolded it.
Dear Maya Williams,
Following our review of the unauthorized scholarship declination and supporting documentation, the university has determined that the withdrawal was not submitted with your consent.
Therefore, the admissions committee is pleased to confirm the reinstatement of your admission and full academic scholarship.
I stopped breathing.
Then I read it again.
My scholarship was back.
I looked at my father.
"Dad..."
He smiled.
"I know."
I began crying.
But this time, they were tears of relief.
He pulled me into his arms.
"You did it, baby."
I shook my head.
"We did it."
He kissed my forehead.
Then he whispered, "Your grandmother would be so proud."
I held the letter against my chest.
For the first time in weeks, I could imagine my future again.
But downstairs, my mother was packing another suitcase.
May you like
And I knew that saving my scholarship was only the beginning.
Because now we had to decide what would happen to the family she had nearly destroyed.
