Chapter 5
I don't remember leaving the hardware store.
I remember Detective Jackson shouting through my earpiece.
I remember Andre beside me.
I remember my hands shaking so badly I dropped the car keys once.
Everything else became noise.
Terrence was inside my house.
With Nia.
With Mom.
And a gun.
Police units were already moving.
Renee had seen the feed.
She ordered us not to return home.
I ignored her for almost thirty seconds.
Then Andre grabbed my arm.
“If we show up, he panics.”
I hated him for being right.
We were taken to a command vehicle two streets away.
The live feed appeared on a monitor.
Terrence had positioned an unauthorized camera somewhere high in my living room.
Maybe smoke detector.
Maybe wall sensor.
Police were trying to trace it.
I only watched Nia.
She stood near Mom.
Her face pale.
Terrence paced.
He looked different from the cousin I remembered.
Thirty-two.
Thin.
Beard untrimmed.
Eyes restless.
He had always been smart.
Too smart, Dad used to say.
Never satisfied with easy answers.
I thought that meant ambitious.
Now I saw something else.
Desperate.
Nia spoke calmly.
“Terrence, put the gun down.”
He laughed.
“You always did think you could talk people down.”
Mom cried.
“Please.”
He turned.
“Aunt Patricia, you've caused enough.”
She flinched.
My fists tightened.
Andre whispered:
“He hates her.”
“Why?”
“Ray probably blames Mom for everything.”
On-screen, Terrence said:
“You should've kept Marcus out of this.”
Nia answered:
“You were watching us.”
“Monitoring.”
“You broke into our network.”
“I built your network.”
“That doesn't make it yours.”
His expression hardened.
Then he said something that made my chest stop.
“You're one to talk about ownership.”
Nia frowned.
“What?”
“You married Marcus and started acting like the Bennett money belonged to you.”
Her face changed.
“It doesn't.”
“Your name was on the trust.”
“Because Walter put it there.”
“Exactly.”
He laughed.
“Everybody trusted you.”
Nia looked toward the hidden camera.
Maybe she knew we were watching.
“Why?”
Terrence stopped.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing this?”
He stared.
“My dad spent his whole life being treated like garbage.”
Mom whispered:
“Raymond made his own choices.”
“Shut up.”
Nia stepped forward.
“Don't talk to her like that.”
He raised the gun slightly.
My body surged.
Andre grabbed my shoulder.
“Marcus.”
I couldn't breathe.
Nia remained still.
Good.
Smart.
Terrence continued:
“My grandfather gave everything to Uncle Walter.”
“No,” Mom said.
“He did.”
“He tried to protect what was left after your father nearly lost the store.”
Terrence’s face twisted.
“That’s Walter’s story.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Truth belongs to whoever has documents.”
That sentence told me everything.
Forgery.
Records.
Access.
He lived in systems.
If he could change the files, he could change history.
Nia asked:
“Did you forge Marcus’s signature?”
He smiled.
“There were a lot of signatures.”
My chest tightened.
“Dad’s?”
“Maybe.”
Andre whispered:
“He'll admit everything if he keeps talking.”
Police negotiators were preparing to call.
Renee wanted him engaged.
Nia was already doing it naturally.
“Why involve me?”
Terrence looked at her.
“Because Uncle Walter trusted you.”
“So you made the secret phone vulnerable.”
“You made it easy.”
Her jaw tightened.
“How?”
“You used the same cloud account.”
She looked sick.
He had accessed messages.
Calls.
Maybe everything.
“That’s how you knew about Walter’s letter.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
Terrence smiled.
“I know you almost kissed Andre.”
My stomach dropped.
Andre went still beside me.
Nia’s face collapsed.
Mom looked at her.
“What?”
Nia whispered:
“Nothing happened.”
Terrence laughed.
“Depends what you call nothing.”
My chest burned.
He was weaponizing it.
And it still hurt.
Andre whispered:
“Marcus, not now.”
I knew.
God, I knew.
On-screen, Terrence continued:
“You think Marcus will forgive that?”
Nia looked toward the hidden camera again.
Then said:
“He doesn't have to.”
I stopped.
Her voice shook.
“I hurt him.”
Terrence blinked.
“I lied.”
Mom stared.
Nia continued.
“And if he leaves me because of it, that's my consequence.”
Terrence’s smile faded.
“But that doesn't make what you did right.”
Something inside me shifted.
She wasn't hiding.
Not anymore.
Terrence started pacing again.
Police negotiator called his phone.
He rejected it.
Another call.
Rejected.
Then Ray’s voice came through my monitor.
Not from the living room.
From police communications.
Detective Jackson had located him.
He was calling his son.
“Terrence.”
On the live feed, Terrence’s phone rang.
He looked.
Dad.
He answered.
“What?”
Ray sounded panicked.
“Leave.”
Terrence laughed.
“Leave where?”
“Just go.”
“You left.”
Silence.
Terrence’s voice changed.
“You told me we were fixing this.”
“We are.”
“No.”
“You ran.”
My stomach tightened.
So Ray wasn't at the hardware store.
He had been remote.
Police traced him somewhere else.
Terrence continued:
“You said Uncle Walter stole from us.”
“He did.”
“You said Marcus and Andre would take everything.”
“They will.”
“You said Nia was the weak point.”
I stared.
Nia flinched.
Ray whispered:
“Terrence, listen.”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“You used me.”
There it was.
Another father using a child.
Ray said:
“I protected you.”
Terrence laughed.
“By putting my name on accounts?”
Andre whispered:
“What?”
The financial crimes.
Terrence may have been used too.
Not innocent.
But used.
Ray continued:
“You handled technology.”
“You told me transfers were legal.”
“You knew enough.”
Terrence went still.
That sentence destroyed something.
“You're blaming me.”
Silence.
“Dad.”
“Terrence—”
“You're blaming me.”
His breathing changed.
Nia saw it.
She stepped forward carefully.
“Terrence.”
He raised the gun.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
“Your father is scared.”
“So?”
“He's trying to survive.”
Terrence laughed bitterly.
“By sacrificing me.”
“Yes.”
Mom whispered:
“Nia.”
But Nia continued.
“Just like he told you Walter sacrificed him.”
Terrence stared.
She was getting through.
“It's a cycle.”
“Shut up.”
“You can stop it.”
“Shut up.”
“You still have a choice.”
He pointed the gun toward the floor.
Better.
Then a loud crash came from outside.
Police movement.
Terrence panicked.
He grabbed Mom.
Everything exploded.
I shouted.
Andre grabbed me.
On-screen, Mom screamed.
Nia moved.
Too fast.
She shoved Terrence’s arm aside.
The gun fired.
A deafening crack.
My entire body stopped.
Mom fell.
“Nia!”
I don't know if I shouted aloud or in my head.
Police stormed the house.
The camera shook.
Men shouting.
Terrence on the floor.
Nia crawling toward Mom.
Then the feed cut.
I ran.
Nobody stopped me this time.
By the time I reached the house, Terrence was in handcuffs.
Police pushed me toward the ambulance.
Mom sat on the stretcher.
Alive.
Blood on her sleeve.
My heart stopped again.
“Mom.”
She looked at me.
“I'm okay.”
The bullet had grazed her upper arm.
No bone.
No artery.
I almost collapsed.
Then Nia appeared.
No injuries.
Just shaking.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
For one second, everything between us disappeared.
Secrets.
Anger.
Andre.
All of it.
I grabbed her and held her.
She sobbed against my chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Not now.”
Andre reached Mom.
Police surrounded Terrence.
He was crying.
Not resisting.
Detective Jackson approached.
“We got Raymond too.”
I looked at her.
“Where?”
“Motel six miles from the hardware store.”
“Good.”
She nodded.
“Terrence is talking.”
“What is he saying?”
“That Raymond directed most of the financial transfers.”
“And the forged signatures?”
“Terrence created some.”
My jaw tightened.
“Some?”
Renee’s expression changed.
“What?”
“There’s another person.”
Of course.
“Who?”
“He hasn't named them.”
“Why?”
“He says he’s afraid.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of who?”
Renee glanced toward Mom.
Then toward Andre.
Then me.
“Someone your father trusted more than Raymond.”
My stomach tightened.
“That doesn't narrow it down.”
Renee hesitated.
“Terrence says this person had physical access to Walter’s original documents.”
David.
Mom.
Andre?
No.
My mind raced.
Then Terrence, being led toward a police car, saw me.
He stopped.
“Marcus.”
An officer pulled him.
He resisted just enough to speak.
“Your dad knew.”
“Knew what?”
Terrence looked at Nia.
Then Andre.
Then me.
“He knew why the money was disappearing.”
My chest tightened.
“Who was helping Ray?”
Terrence swallowed.
“Ask David Monroe.”
I turned.
Dad’s estate attorney.
May you like
The man who brought the documents into my house.
The man sitting inside our secrets from the beginning.
