Chapter 7
The first person who apologized to Maya wasn't Denise.
It was Tasha.
I found the girls sitting on the staircase the following morning.
Tasha was crying.
Maya looked stunned.
I stopped before they noticed me.
"I didn't know," Tasha whispered.
Maya stared at her hands.
"You never asked."
Tasha flinched.
"I know."
Silence settled between them.
Then Tasha said something that made my throat tighten.
"Mom told us you didn't want to come shopping."
Maya looked up.
"What?"
"She said you hated expensive stores."
Maya gave a sad little laugh.
"I wasn't invited."
Tasha covered her mouth.
"Oh my God."
Maya wiped her eyes.
"Every time you and Lily went somewhere, Denise said it was just for you two."
Tasha began crying harder.
"I thought you were being difficult."
Maya shook her head.
"I just stopped asking."
I stepped backward before either girl noticed me.
They needed that conversation without an adult controlling it.
Downstairs, Claire's old photograph stood on the bookshelf.
No.
Angela's photograph.
My first wife.
Maya's mother.
I picked it up.
Angela was smiling beneath a summer sky, holding baby Maya against her chest.
For years after Angela died, I had been terrified of raising our daughter alone.
I thought Maya needed a mother figure.
Someone to help guide her through adolescence.
Someone to celebrate birthdays, braid her hair, and listen when she didn't want to talk to me.
That longing had made me overlook too much.
I had confused the appearance of a complete family with the reality of a loving one.
And Maya had paid the price.
Later that day, Rachel came to the house.
She reviewed the documents Raymond had left.
Her expression grew increasingly serious.
"Marcus, this is bigger than I expected."
I sat across from her.
"How much bigger?"
"The Southcrest transaction appears to involve undisclosed financial interests and potentially misleading representations."
My stomach tightened.
"Can we reverse the sale?"
"Not necessarily. The property has changed hands since then. We'll need to evaluate your company's legal claims."
I nodded.
"What about the money Denise transferred?"
"We can trace the authorized and unauthorized transactions and determine the appropriate remedies."
I looked toward the dining room.
Denise had gone to stay with her sister temporarily after agreeing that the house needed some calm.
The girls remained with me for the weekend.
Their mother called them regularly.
I hadn't forbidden contact.
But I had made it clear that nobody would pressure Maya or use the girls to carry messages between adults.
Rachel opened another folder.
"There's something else."
I leaned forward.
"What?"
"Raymond's threats may support a separate investigation."
I nodded.
"He admitted demanding money."
"Yes, but we need the messages, transfer records, and any evidence showing exactly what he threatened."
I exhaled.
"Can we move forward?"
"Yes."
She paused.
"Marcus, I also need to discuss your marriage."
I stared at her.
"I know."
"You don't have to make a final decision today."
I looked down.
"But I need to make one soon."
Rachel nodded.
"I can arrange a meeting with a family-law attorney."
"Do it."
She closed her folder.
Then she asked, "How's Maya?"
I looked toward the staircase.
"She's trying to act like everything is fine."
Rachel's expression softened.
"That's a lot for a child to carry."
"I know."
"Have you arranged counseling?"
"Yes. Her first appointment is Monday."
Rachel smiled gently.
"Good."
After she left, I found Maya in the kitchen.
She was making sandwiches.
Three plates sat on the counter.
"Who are those for?" I asked.
She smiled shyly.
"Me, Tasha, and Lily."
I felt something warm settle in my chest.
"That sounds nice."
She hesitated.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Are Tasha and Lily going to move away?"
I sat beside her.
"I don't know yet. Their mother and I are working through what happens next."
Maya looked down.
"I don't want them to hate me."
I took her hand.
"Sweetheart, you haven't done anything wrong."
She nodded.
Then she whispered, "I think Tasha finally believes me."
I smiled.
"That's a good start."
That afternoon, the three girls spent hours together.
They watched movies.
Ordered pizza.
Talked about school.
At one point, I heard Lily laughing so loudly that Tasha told her to be quiet.
I stood in the hallway listening.
For the first time in months, the house sounded like a home.
But that evening, Denise called.
Her voice was strained.
"Marcus, I need to speak with you."
"What about?"
"The girls."
My chest tightened.
"Are they okay?"
"They're fine."
"Then what?"
She hesitated.
"Raymond contacted me again."
I closed my eyes.
"What did he want?"
"Money."
I stared at the wall.
"Denise, you need to stop handling this privately."
"I know."
Her voice broke.
"He's threatening to tell Tasha and Lily something."
I frowned.
"What?"
She began crying.
"Something about their childhood."
My stomach tightened.
"Denise, what are you talking about?"
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered, "Marcus, there's something I never told you about why Raymond and I separated."
I gripped the phone.
"What happened?"
She took a shaky breath.
"He didn't just leave us."
I waited.
"He used the girls' college savings to cover debts."
My blood ran cold.
"How much?"
"Almost everything."
I closed my eyes.
Denise continued.
"And I never told them."
I stared toward the living room, where Tasha and Lily were laughing with Maya.
The money.
The lies.
The fear.
May you like
It was all connected.
And I was beginning to understand why Denise had become so desperate to protect the illusion that her daughters had everything.
