Chapter 6
For several seconds, the room was silent.
I stared at Denise.
"What do you mean he left the country?"
She looked down.
"Richard said he had business overseas."
Dad's expression hardened.
"Where?"
"I don't know."
I felt my chest tighten.
"You gave someone documents involving my mother's trust, and you don't know where he is?"
Denise started crying.
"He told me he'd be back."
Dad took a slow breath.
"Denise, how much money did you give him?"
She looked away.
My stomach dropped.
"Denise."
She whispered:
"Twenty-five thousand dollars."
Dad stared at her.
"From where?"
She began shaking.
"From the property account."
I felt sick.
Another twenty-five thousand dollars.
Money connected to my family's properties.
Money that might have belonged partly to me.
Dad sat down heavily.
For the first time, he looked old.
Exhausted.
Heartbroken.
"Why?" he whispered.
Denise covered her face.
"Richard promised he could restructure the trust and increase the rental income."
Dad looked at her.
"Did you verify his credentials?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Did you consult Daniel?"
"No."
"Did you tell Maya?"
"No."
Dad closed his eyes.
I watched him.
My father had spent years building wealth carefully.
He saved.
Invested.
Avoided unnecessary debt.
And now the woman he trusted had apparently handed family assets to someone without proper authority.
I wanted to hate her.
But part of me felt something else.
Disbelief.
How could someone be so confident about decisions they didn't understand?
Dad stood.
"We're contacting Daniel."
Denise nodded.
For once, she didn't argue.
The next morning, we met Daniel.
He listened carefully.
Then began reviewing the consultant's information.
Richard Lawson had a professional-looking website.
A business address.
Testimonials.
Claims of experience managing family trusts.
But when Daniel checked the records, several things didn't match.
The business address belonged to a shared office space.
The professional license number was associated with a different person.
And the company had been formed less than a year earlier.
My stomach tightened.
"Was he a scammer?"
Daniel spoke carefully.
"There are significant warning signs. We need to report the matter and verify the transactions."
Dad looked at Denise.
She stared at the table.
Daniel continued.
"Did Richard ask for personal identification or signed documents?"
Denise nodded.
"Yes."
"Whose?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Mine. Arthur's. And Maya's."
My blood ran cold.
I looked at her.
"You gave him my identification?"
She started crying.
"I thought it was necessary."
I stared at her.
"You didn't ask me?"
"No."
My chest tightened.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Someone I didn't know had copies of my personal information.
Documents connected to my inheritance.
Possibly my signature.
And Denise had given them away.
I stood.
Dad immediately looked at me.
"Maya?"
I shook my head.
"I need a minute."
I walked into the hallway.
Then leaned against the wall.
Tears ran down my face.
I remembered being sixteen.
Denise telling me I wasn't mature enough to make decisions.
Being eighteen.
Denise criticizing how I spent my birthday money.
Being twenty-one.
Denise insisting Dad shouldn't help me rent an apartment because I needed independence.
All those years, she'd treated me like a child.
And now she'd handed my information to a stranger.
I covered my face.
Dad came into the hallway.
He stood beside me.
"I'm sorry."
I looked at him.
"Why did you let her manage everything?"
His expression broke.
"I trusted her."
I wiped my tears.
"I know."
He reached for my hand.
"But you trusted her more than you trusted me."
Dad went still.
I continued.
"I'm twenty-three. I have an accounting degree. And nobody even told me what belonged to me."
His eyes filled.
"You're right."
I looked down.
"I don't care about being rich."
My voice cracked.
"I care about Mom and Grandma trying to protect me, and people treating that like something they could take."
Dad hugged me.
I cried against his chest.
He whispered:
"I won't let that happen."
I wanted to believe him.
This time, he needed to prove it.
Over the following weeks, Daniel helped us secure the property and trust records.
We contacted the financial institutions.
Reported the suspicious activity.
Preserved documents.
And placed appropriate alerts on my personal information.
The twenty-five-thousand-dollar transfer was under investigation.
The attempted administrative changes were challenged.
And the suspicious property transfer request was reviewed.
I learned more about trusts and property law in those weeks than I'd learned in four years of college.
But I also learned something more personal.
I had to understand my own future.
Not rely on other people to explain it.
I attended every meeting.
Read every document.
Asked questions.
And refused to sign anything until I understood it.
Dad supported me.
He didn't tell me to trust him blindly anymore.
He told me to verify.
To learn.
To make informed decisions.
That mattered.
Then one afternoon, Daniel called with news.
The trust's financial institution had located archived records.
The Angela Robinson Family Trust was still legally active.
And the downtown property remained associated with it.
I nearly cried with relief.
But Daniel had another discovery.
The property had been leased for several years.
Rental income had accumulated.
And some distributions had been redirected to an account that required investigation.
My stomach tightened.
"How much money?"
Daniel gave me the preliminary figure.
It was substantial.
More than I'd earned in several years of working.
I looked at Dad.
He looked equally stunned.
Then Daniel said something that made everything worse.
"The account receiving the disputed distributions was opened using documents bearing Maya's name."
I stopped breathing.
"My name?"
He nodded.
"But I never opened an account."
Daniel's voice became serious.
"That's why we're investigating."
I looked at Denise.
She was sitting across the room.
Her face had gone completely pale.
May you like
Then she whispered:
"Richard told me Maya had already approved it."
