Chapter 6
Dad didn't speak during the drive home.
He kept both hands on the steering wheel.
His jaw was tight.
I sat beside him holding Mom's handwritten note.
Every few minutes, I looked down at the words.
Elaine has been moving funds without authorization.
I wondered how frightened Mom had been.
She was sick.
She was raising a little girl.
And she was trying to protect money meant for other families.
I swallowed.
"Dad?"
He glanced toward me.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Did Mom ever tell you she was having trouble at work?"
His expression softened.
"She mentioned disagreements about the assistance fund."
I stared at him.
"What did you say?"
He looked ashamed.
"I told her to focus on getting better."
My throat tightened.
He continued.
"I thought I was helping."
I looked out the window.
"Maybe she needed you to listen."
Dad nodded slowly.
"You're right."
For a moment, I felt angry again.
Not because Dad had caused Elaine's actions.
But because I was beginning to see a pattern.
Mom had raised concerns.
People minimized them.
I'd raised concerns.
People minimized mine.
And the people doing wrong kept benefiting.
I looked toward Dad.
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"When I tell you something feels wrong, don't just tell me it'll be okay."
His eyes filled.
"I promise."
The following morning, Rebecca called with news.
The hospital had preserved limited records of the assistance fund.
Some were incomplete.
But the financial reports showed several unexplained transfers.
Elaine's name appeared on the authorizations.
Dad immediately asked whether the money could be recovered.
Rebecca explained that independent accountants would need to examine the records.
Some legal claims might be limited by the passage of time.
But the evidence could still matter in the current investigation.
I listened from the kitchen table.
Then asked something that surprised everyone.
"What happened to the families who needed that money?"
Rebecca paused.
"That's an important question."
I swallowed.
"If money disappeared, somebody didn't get help."
Dad looked at me.
His expression changed.
He reached across the table.
"Your mother would be proud you asked that."
My eyes filled.
For the first time, I felt connected to Mom in a way that had nothing to do with the money she left me.
She cared about fairness.
I cared about fairness.
Maybe I had more of her in me than just my curly hair and brown eyes.
Over the next two weeks, the investigation expanded.
The trust company provided additional records.
The bank identified payments connected to Elaine and Trevor.
And an independent accountant began tracing the money.
Dad met with Rebecca almost every day.
He also started attending family counseling with me.
At first, I hated the idea.
I thought counseling meant something was wrong with me.
But our counselor, Dr. Renee Jackson, explained that we were there to rebuild trust.
She asked Dad to listen while I described the past eight years.
I told him about birthdays.
About school trips.
About Jordan's gifts.
About the way Denise ignored me whenever we were alone.
Dad cried.
I cried too.
Then Dr. Jackson asked him a question.
"What prevented you from seeing the pattern?"
Dad stared at his hands.
"I wanted my second marriage to work."
I felt my stomach twist.
He continued.
"I thought if I kept the peace, everyone would eventually adjust."
I looked at him.
"But I was the one who had to keep adjusting."
His face crumpled.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"You weren't protecting peace."
He nodded.
"You were protecting Denise from consequences."
Dad began crying harder.
"You're right."
For once, I didn't feel guilty for telling the truth.
I felt heard.
That evening, Jordan knocked on my bedroom door.
He stood there holding the orange sneaker box.
I stared at it.
"What?"
He looked nervous.
"I returned the shoes."
My eyebrows rose.
"Why?"
He shrugged.
"I didn't need them."
I looked down.
He continued.
"I got the refund."
I didn't know what to say.
Then he held out an envelope.
Inside was the receipt.
Three hundred and forty dollars.
He looked embarrassed.
"I asked Dad to put it toward replacing what Mom took."
My throat tightened.
"Jordan..."
He shook his head.
"I know it doesn't fix everything."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"I've been thinking about how different things were for us."
His voice cracked.
"I knew Mom treated me better."
I looked down.
"But I didn't know how bad it was."
I swallowed.
"Sometimes you laughed when she said I was jealous."
His eyes filled.
"I know."
I looked up.
"That hurt."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something that surprised me.
"You don't have to forgive me right away."
I stared at him.
He smiled sadly.
"But I want to be a better brother."
My eyes filled.
I stepped forward and hugged him.
He held me tightly.
For the first time, I believed we might become real siblings instead of two children competing for space.
The next morning, Dad received an urgent call.
Rebecca had located something important.
A transfer made four years earlier.
It involved fifty thousand dollars.
The money had moved from a trust-linked account into a company controlled by Elaine Porter.
Then it had been transferred again.
To Denise.
Dad stared at the report.
"Four years ago?"
Rebecca nodded.
I looked toward him.
That was shortly after Denise had convinced him to let her handle all the household finances.
I swallowed.
"So this started before the apartment?"
Rebecca nodded.
"Much earlier."
Dad's expression hardened.
"How much money is missing in total?"
She hesitated.
"We're still tracing everything."
I felt cold.
Then Rebecca continued.
"But the preliminary review suggests the amount may exceed one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
My chest tightened.
Dad closed his eyes.
I looked toward Mom's photograph on the mantel.
She had worked so hard to protect my future.
And somebody had been taking from it for years.
Then Rebecca added something unexpected.
"There's another issue."
Dad looked up.
"What?"
"Elaine has contacted us through her attorney."
My heart pounded.
"And?"
Rebecca took a slow breath.
"She claims Denise instructed her to conceal the transfers from you."
Dad stared at the phone.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Rebecca continued.
"Elaine says she has messages proving it."
I looked toward Dad.
His face had gone pale.
May you like
And suddenly, we were no longer wondering whether Denise had simply made bad financial decisions.
We were wondering how long she'd been planning to keep me from discovering the truth.
