Chapter 7
I never thought I'd be relieved to hear that somebody had saved text messages.
But when Rebecca told us Elaine had preserved conversations with Denise, I felt something unfamiliar.
Hope.
For months, Denise had insisted everything was a misunderstanding.
She said she'd borrowed money.
She said she was trying to help the family.
She said Elaine had confused her.
Now there might be proof of what she actually knew.
Dad sat beside me at Rebecca's office.
Jordan had asked to come too.
He looked nervous.
Rebecca opened a folder.
"Elaine's attorney provided copies of several messages."
Dad leaned forward.
"Have they been verified?"
"Not completely. We're requesting the original devices and account records."
I appreciated that.
Rebecca never promised more than she could prove.
She showed us one message.
It was dated four years earlier.
Denise had written:
Marcus doesn't check the trust statements. Just make sure nothing comes to the house.
My stomach dropped.
Dad closed his eyes.
Rebecca continued.
Another message appeared.
This one was from Elaine.
The withdrawals are increasing. We need proper authorization or this could become a serious problem.
Denise replied:
Handle the paperwork. I can't let Marcus find out before Jordan graduates.
I stared at the screen.
Jordan looked devastated.
"Mom used my graduation as an excuse?"
Rebecca nodded carefully.
"That's what this message suggests."
He looked down.
I felt sorry for him.
He hadn't requested any of this.
But his name kept appearing as the reason Denise thought she deserved my money.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Was she planning to repay it?"
Rebecca opened another message.
Denise had written:
Once Trevor sells the property, we'll replace everything.
I swallowed.
The property.
The downtown apartment.
The expensive gifts.
All connected to promises about money that didn't belong to her.
Rebecca explained that the records suggested a pattern of unauthorized transfers.
The accountant was still tracing the full amount.
The police and financial authorities had begun reviewing the evidence.
Dad nodded.
"Whatever they need, we'll cooperate."
I looked at him.
He meant it.
For once, he wasn't trying to preserve appearances.
He was trying to protect me.
After the meeting, Jordan asked if we could talk privately.
We sat outside on a bench near the parking lot.
He stared at his hands.
"I feel like this is my fault."
I shook my head.
"It's not."
He looked toward me.
"She spent the money on me."
I swallowed.
"She spent some of it on you."
He nodded.
"That still feels terrible."
I thought about the orange sneaker box.
The anger.
The humiliation.
For years, I'd resented Jordan because he always got more.
But now I realized he hadn't controlled Denise's choices.
He'd simply been raised to believe they were normal.
I looked at him.
"You're not responsible for what Mom did."
He smiled sadly.
"You still call her Mom sometimes."
I froze.
I hadn't noticed.
For years, I'd wanted Denise to love me.
Even after everything, part of me still reached for that word automatically.
I looked down.
"I guess habits are hard to break."
Jordan gently touched my shoulder.
"You don't have to stop calling her anything because of me."
I nodded.
"Thanks."
He looked toward the parking lot.
Then whispered.
"I love you, Maya."
My throat tightened.
He'd never said it so directly before.
I smiled through tears.
"I love you too."
We hugged.
For the first time, I felt like I had a brother who truly saw me.
That afternoon, Dad took us shopping.
Not for expensive gifts.
Not to make up for years of neglect with a pile of bags.
He simply asked what we genuinely needed.
I chose a new backpack for school.
Jordan picked up a few notebooks for his college classes.
Then Dad surprised me.
He drove us to a small engineering supply store.
Inside were model-building kits, drafting tools, and robotics equipment.
I stared around in amazement.
"Dad?"
He smiled.
"Your science teacher told me you've been working on a bridge design."
I nodded.
"Yeah."
He pointed toward the drafting tables.
"I thought you might need a few supplies."
My eyes filled.
It wasn't about the cost.
It was the fact that he'd noticed.
He'd asked about my interests.
He'd listened.
I hugged him tightly.
"Thank you."
He kissed my forehead.
"I'm proud of you."
For a moment, everything felt peaceful.
But that evening, Claire called.
Dad answered while we were eating dinner.
Her voice was sharp.
"Marcus, I need to see Jordan."
He looked toward my brother.
"He's right here."
Denise continued.
"Tell him to come outside."
Jordan frowned.
"Why?"
She hesitated.
"Because I have something important to discuss."
Dad put the call on speaker.
"Denise, if this concerns the investigation, speak through your attorney."
She sounded offended.
"He's my son!"
Jordan took the phone.
"Mom, what is it?"
Her voice changed immediately.
Soft.
Emotional.
"Baby, everybody's turning against me."
Jordan closed his eyes.
"Mom..."
She began crying.
"They're making me look like a monster."
He looked toward me.
Then back at the phone.
"You took money from Maya."
Denise gasped.
"Jordan!"
He swallowed.
"I love you, but you need to stop pretending it didn't happen."
Silence.
Then Denise whispered something that made my stomach tighten.
"Your sister is going to destroy our family."
Jordan's expression hardened.
"No, Mom."
His voice trembled.
"Your choices did that."
He ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked toward Dad.
"I'm sorry."
Dad shook his head.
"You don't have anything to apologize for."
Jordan began crying.
Dad pulled him into a hug.
I joined them.
For a moment, the three of us stood together in the kitchen.
Not perfect.
Not healed.
But finally honest.
Two days later, Rebecca called again.
This time, her voice sounded unusually serious.
"Marcus, the forensic accountant completed the preliminary tracing."
Dad put her on speaker.
I sat beside him.
Jordan stood near the island.
Rebecca took a breath.
"The total amount identified as improperly withdrawn is one hundred and seventy-six thousand dollars."
My heart stopped.
One hundred and seventy-six thousand.
Nearly everything Mom had worked to leave me.
Dad covered his face.
Then Rebecca continued.
"We also located a property purchased through Trevor's company using some of those funds."
Dad looked up.
"What property?"
"A small house outside Savannah."
I frowned.
Savannah?
Denise had taken several weekend trips there.
She always said she was visiting friends.
Rebecca continued.
"The property records list Denise and Trevor as beneficial owners through the company."
My stomach twisted.
Dad stared at the phone.
Then whispered.
"She bought herself a house with Maya's money."
I looked down at my hands.
For years, Denise had told me I was too expensive.
Too demanding.
Too selfish.
May you like
All while secretly building a future for herself with money my mother had left for mine.
And for the first time, I understood exactly how deep her betrayal went.
