Chapter 4
I couldn't look at our kitchen the same way anymore.
The white marble.
The expensive cabinets.
The enormous refrigerator Denise insisted we needed.
I'd always thought those things came from Dad's business.
Now I wondered whether my mother's savings had helped pay for them.
Dad stared at Denise.
"Are you saying you used Maya's money toward this house?"
She shook her head quickly.
"No. Not exactly."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Then explain the payment."
Denise took a shaking breath.
"Elaine created an investment account."
Dad's face hardened.
"What investment?"
"She said we could earn returns through property development."
I stared at her.
"With my money?"
Denise began crying.
"I thought we'd all benefit."
I almost laughed.
"All of us?"
She looked toward me.
I pointed at my torn sneakers.
"Then why couldn't I get seventy-dollar shoes?"
Denise lowered her head.
The silence hurt more than another insult would have.
Rebecca examined the documents.
"Did Elaine disclose the investment to the trustee?"
Denise hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Did you receive written approval?"
"No."
Dad closed his eyes.
Rebecca continued.
"Then these transactions raise serious concerns."
I looked toward Dad.
He seemed exhausted.
For years, he'd trusted Denise to handle household expenses because he traveled for work.
She paid bills.
She shopped for groceries.
She organized school forms.
And whenever I complained about unfair treatment, Dad assumed it was ordinary sibling jealousy.
Now he was learning how wrong he'd been.
I wanted to feel relieved.
Instead, I felt angry.
Because he should have listened sooner.
I turned toward him.
"Dad, I told you."
His eyes filled.
"I know."
I swallowed.
"I told you she treated us differently."
He nodded.
"I know, sweetheart."
"Remember when she bought Jordan a laptop and said mine still worked?"
His expression tightened.
"Yes."
"It didn't work. The screen kept freezing."
Dad looked down.
I continued.
"Remember when I couldn't go on the Washington school trip?"
He closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"She said we couldn't afford it."
My voice cracked.
"But there was money."
He reached toward me.
I stepped back.
For the first time, I didn't want another apology.
I wanted him to understand.
"You believed her every time."
Dad looked devastated.
"You're right."
Tears filled my eyes.
"And you made me feel like I was asking for too much."
He swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"I need more than sorry."
He nodded slowly.
"Then I'll show you."
I wanted to believe him.
But trust felt fragile.
Rebecca suggested we preserve all the documents and request a formal account review.
Dad agreed immediately.
He also arranged for an independent financial investigator to examine the transfers.
Denise became furious.
"You're treating me like a criminal!"
Dad looked at her.
"I'm treating missing money seriously."
She pointed toward me.
"This is what she wanted!"
I froze.
"What?"
Denise's face twisted.
"She's been trying to turn you against me for years!"
Dad stepped between us.
"Stop."
Denise ignored him.
"She never accepted me as her mother!"
The words struck a familiar wound.
I stared at her.
"You told me not to call you Mom."
She went silent.
I continued.
"I was nine."
My voice trembled.
"I called you Mom after my school play."
Dad slowly turned toward Denise.
I swallowed.
"You took me into the hallway and said I already had a mother."
Denise looked away.
I felt tears rolling down my cheeks.
"You told me to stop making people uncomfortable."
Dad covered his mouth.
He hadn't known.
Nobody had.
I'd kept that humiliation inside for eight years.
Denise whispered, "I didn't mean it that way."
I shook my head.
"That's exactly how you meant it."
Jordan suddenly spoke.
"Mom, enough."
We all turned.
He stepped away from the window.
His eyes were red.
"I remember that day."
My heart stopped.
Denise stared at him.
"Jordan?"
He nodded.
"I heard you."
I looked at him.
"You did?"
He swallowed.
"I was upstairs."
My chest tightened.
He looked ashamed.
"I didn't say anything because I was scared you'd get mad at me too."
Denise's expression collapsed.
Jordan continued.
"And I remember when Maya couldn't go on the school trip."
He looked toward Dad.
"Mom bought me concert tickets that same week."
Dad stared at him.
Jordan's voice broke.
"I thought you knew."
I shook my head.
"I didn't."
He turned toward me.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't know what to say.
Jordan and I had never been especially close.
He was kind sometimes.
Other times he accepted Denise's favoritism without question.
But now he was standing up for me.
And I could see how difficult it was.
Denise suddenly grabbed her purse.
"I'm leaving."
Dad didn't stop her.
"That's your choice."
She stared at him.
"You're letting me walk out?"
He looked exhausted.
"We need space."
Her eyes widened.
"Marcus!"
He continued.
"And until these financial matters are resolved, you won't have access to Maya's accounts or unrestricted household funds."
Denise looked toward Jordan.
"Come with me."
He hesitated.
Then shook his head.
"Mom, I need to talk to Dad."
She looked as though he'd betrayed her.
For a moment, I thought she'd scream.
Instead, she rushed toward the door.
It slammed behind her.
The kitchen went silent.
Jordan stared at the floor.
Dad leaned against the island.
And I stood holding my mother's letter, wondering whether the family I'd known was falling apart.
That evening, Dad knocked on my bedroom door.
I was sitting on the floor beside my bed.
He entered carefully.
"Can we talk?"
I shrugged.
He sat beside me.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he held out a small paper bag.
Inside were new school sneakers.
Simple black ones.
Exactly the kind I'd wanted.
My throat tightened.
"Dad..."
He shook his head.
"These don't fix what happened."
I looked at him.
"I know."
He continued.
"I should have listened when you told me something was wrong."
Tears filled his eyes.
"I failed you."
I began crying.
He held out his arms.
This time, I moved toward him.
He hugged me tightly.
I buried my face against his shoulder.
Then he whispered something I'd needed to hear for years.
"You never had to compete for my love."
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I believed him.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
A photograph of my mother standing beside a woman I didn't recognize.
Beneath it were four words.
ASK DENISE WHAT HAPPENED.
My blood turned cold.
I showed Dad.
His face changed.
Then he whispered, "That's Elaine Porter."
May you like
The woman beside my mother was Denise's sister.
And suddenly, the financial scandal seemed much older than anyone had admitted.
