Chapter 2
I tore open the envelope with trembling fingers.
My mother made a sound like someone had punched the air from her lungs.
"Marcus, don't!"
I ignored her.
Inside were three documents.
A letter.
A photograph.
And a certified copy of a legal agreement.
I pulled out the photograph first.
A young Black man stood beside a silver sports car.
He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
His hair was cut close.
His smile was wide and confident.
But it was his eyes that made my knees weak.
They were mine.
The same deep-set eyes.
The same slightly uneven eyebrows.
Even the little crease beside his left eye matched mine.
I stared at him.
"Who is this?"
Arthur placed a hand on my shoulder.
"His name is Jonathan Reed."
My mother turned away.
I looked at the photograph again.
"He's my father?"
Arthur nodded.
"Yes."
The word hit me harder than my mother's public humiliation.
My father had a name.
A face.
A smile.
For nineteen years, I'd imagined him as a shadow.
Now I was holding proof that he was real.
"Where is he?"
Arthur glanced at Diane.
She shook her head.
"Arthur, please don't do this here."
I stepped toward her.
"Where is my father?"
Her lips trembled.
"Marcus—"
"WHERE?"
Several guests gasped.
I'd never shouted at my mother like that.
Not once.
Diane stared at me.
Then she whispered, "He's alive."
My chest tightened.
Alive.
My father was alive.
All those birthdays.
All those graduations.
Every Christmas when I'd wondered why he never called.
He had been alive.
I looked at Arthur.
"Does he know about me now?"
Arthur hesitated.
"No."
My stomach dropped.
"Why not?"
"Because we only confirmed the full truth recently."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Arthur guided me toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
Maya followed.
Diane hurried after us.
"Marcus, we need to discuss this privately."
I turned sharply.
"You had nineteen years to discuss it privately."
She stopped.
For once, she had no answer.
Arthur opened the trust document.
"Your grandfather, Elijah Bennett, discovered something shortly before he died."
I remembered Grandpa Elijah.
He'd passed away when I was twelve.
He was the only person who never made me feel unwanted.
He taught me how to tie a necktie.
How to change a tire.
How to shake a man's hand while looking him in the eye.
When Mom criticized me, Grandpa always defended me.
I missed him every day.
Arthur pointed toward the document.
"Elijah discovered that Diane had withheld information about your birth."
Maya frowned.
"What information?"
Arthur looked at me.
"Jonathan Reed was an engineer working on one of the family's development projects twenty years ago."
I swallowed.
"Okay."
"He and Diane were involved."
Mom crossed her arms.
"That's nobody's business."
Arthur ignored her.
"When Diane became pregnant, Jonathan was preparing to accept a job in California."
My chest tightened.
"She told him I wasn't his?"
Arthur shook his head.
"She told him she wasn't pregnant."
I stared at my mother.
"What?"
Diane began crying.
"I was scared."
Arthur continued.
"Jonathan moved to California believing their relationship had ended."
I looked at the photograph again.
"He never knew?"
"No."
I felt sick.
For nineteen years, I'd believed my father chose to abandon me.
But he'd never been given a choice.
Maya covered her mouth.
"Mom, how could you?"
Diane looked toward her.
"You don't understand what I was dealing with."
Maya's voice hardened.
"Then explain it."
Mom stared at the floor.
"I was trying to build a company. I had investors, contracts, people depending on me."
Arthur shook his head.
"That doesn't explain lying to your son."
Diane snapped.
"I didn't want Jonathan taking him away!"
I went still.
"Taking me away?"
She nodded desperately.
"His family had money. Lawyers. Influence. I thought they'd fight me for custody."
Arthur's face darkened.
"You never gave Jonathan the opportunity to be a father."
Diane looked at me.
"I raised you!"
I stared at her.
"Then why did you spend my entire life making me feel like a burden?"
She flinched.
I thought about the holidays when she'd buy Maya expensive gifts and hand me a gift card.
The birthdays when she'd forget my cake.
The times she'd introduce Maya as her daughter and call me "the youngest."
I had spent years believing I wasn't good enough.
Maybe I was too quiet.
Too sensitive.
Too different.
Now I wondered whether my mother had punished me simply because I reminded her of someone she'd wanted to forget.
Arthur handed me the letter.
"This is from your grandfather."
My heart stopped.
Grandpa.
I unfolded it carefully.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Marcus,
If you're reading this, it means the truth has finally reached you.
I wish I had known everything sooner.
Your father did not abandon you.
I have made arrangements to protect your future and ensure you have the opportunity to know where you came from.
Never let anyone convince you that you were unwanted.
You were loved from the day you entered this world.
Grandpa Elijah.
My vision blurred.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Grandpa had known.
He had tried to protect me.
Even after death, he was fighting for me.
Then I noticed another page.
A legal agreement.
I looked at Arthur.
"What's this?"
He exhaled slowly.
"A trust."
Maya leaned closer.
"A trust for Marcus?"
Arthur nodded.
"Your grandfather established it shortly before his death."
Diane suddenly stepped forward.
"That money was supposed to support the family!"
Arthur's expression hardened.
"No. It was established specifically for Marcus."
I looked down at the document.
The amount listed made my heart stop.
Four million dollars.
I stared at the numbers.
"That can't be right."
Arthur nodded.
"It is."
Mom looked furious.
"Arthur, you have no right to discuss family finances in public!"
I turned toward her.
"You knew?"
She didn't answer.
"Mom, did you know about this money?"
Her silence told me enough.
Arthur continued.
"The trust was meant to support Marcus's education and future. Certain distributions were scheduled to become available when he turned twenty-one."
I looked at Diane.
"You knew I had money for college?"
She looked away.
My chest tightened.
Last month, she'd refused to help pay my tuition.
She'd told me to work harder.
To stop expecting handouts.
She'd even suggested I take a year off school.
All while knowing Grandpa had created a trust for me.
I felt physically sick.
"Why?"
Mom began crying.
"I was protecting you."
I stared at her.
"From what?"
She couldn't answer.
Arthur reached into the portfolio again.
"Marcus, there's something else."
I looked up.
"What?"
He removed a stack of financial statements.
"I asked for an independent accounting of the trust."
Diane went completely pale.
Arthur continued.
"Some funds were transferred without proper authorization."
Maya looked horrified.
"Transferred where?"
Arthur glanced toward my mother.
Then back at me.
"We believe someone has been accessing money intended for Marcus."
My hands began shaking.
"How much?"
Arthur hesitated.
"More than one million dollars."
I stumbled backward.
My sister caught my arm.
Mom began sobbing.
I stared at her.
"You stole from me?"
She shook her head.
"No!"
Arthur's voice became firm.
"Diane, the records show transfers into accounts connected to Bennett Legacy Holdings."
The ballroom suddenly felt too small.
My mother's company.
Her anniversary celebration.
The gold balloons.
The champagne.
The expensive flowers.
Had all of it been paid for with money Grandpa left for me?
I looked around.
The crowd was still watching.
Photographers were whispering.
Guests were recording.
Then Maya stepped between Mom and me.
"Marcus, we're leaving."
I nodded slowly.
I couldn't stand there another second.
But as we turned toward the exit, Diane grabbed my sleeve.
"Marcus, please. I can explain."
I pulled away.
"Then explain why you told me nobody wanted me."
Her face crumpled.
I stepped backward.
"Explain why you made me feel worthless when Grandpa left me everything I needed."
She began crying harder.
I looked directly into her eyes.
"And explain why you were so afraid I'd find my father."
Diane opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Arthur's phone began ringing.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
I noticed immediately.
"Who is it?"
Arthur swallowed.
"Jonathan Reed."
I felt my heart stop.
"My father?"
Arthur nodded.
"He knows something is happening."
I stared at the phone.
Nineteen years.
Nineteen years of questions.
And now the man I'd spent my life searching for was one phone call away.
Arthur looked at me.
"Marcus, do you want me to answer?"
I took a shaky breath.
Then I reached for the phone.
May you like
"Yes."
Because for the first time in my life, I wanted to hear my father's voice.
