Chapter 2
I had never seen Denise frightened of her own daughter before.
Tasha was twenty years old, tall and confident, with the same sharp eyes as her mother.
Usually, she stayed out of our arguments.
Sometimes she laughed when Denise called me lazy.
Other times, she simply looked away.
But that night, she stood beside her chair with tears gathering in her eyes.
"Mom, I can't keep doing this."
Denise pointed toward the hallway.
"Go to your room."
"I'm twenty."
"I don't care how old you are!"
My father stepped between them.
"Nobody is leaving until somebody tells me what happened to Maya."
Tasha looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
Those two words made my stomach twist.
She had never apologized to me before.
My father placed the hospital bill on the table.
"Maya, start from the beginning."
I took a trembling breath.
Eleven days earlier, I had been working a shift at a neighborhood bookstore.
I had taken the job because Denise refused to give me money for school supplies.
I loved the bookstore.
It was quiet, smelled like coffee, and had a little reading corner near the front window.
That afternoon, I had been carrying a box of books toward the stockroom when my chest suddenly tightened.
My heart began racing.
Then the room tilted.
I remember hearing my manager call my name.
The next thing I knew, I was lying in an ambulance.
At the hospital, doctors told me my heart rhythm had become dangerously abnormal.
They stabilized me and performed tests.
A cardiologist explained that the episode could have several causes, but I needed prompt follow-up testing to understand what was happening.
I was terrified.
I asked for my father.
A nurse helped me call him.
But the call went straight to voicemail.
Later, I found out Denise had told him I was staying with a friend that weekend.
She had also told me my father knew about the hospitalization and didn't want to interrupt his business trip.
I had believed her.
"Why didn't you call me again?" Dad asked softly.
"I tried."
I showed him my phone.
Three unanswered calls.
Two text messages.
One voice recording I had never had the courage to delete.
Dad took out his own phone.
He searched his messages.
Nothing.
Then he called his assistant.
It was after nine, but she answered immediately.
"Mr. Carter?"
"Monica, did anybody contact my office about Maya being hospitalized?"
There was a pause.
"Yes, sir."
My father closed his eyes.
"What?"
"Mrs. Carter called and said Maya had a minor medical issue. She instructed me not to disturb you because you were negotiating the Savannah contract."
I heard my father inhale sharply.
"Did you receive anything from the hospital?"
"An email came through your family account. Mrs. Carter told me she'd handle it."
"Forward everything to me."
"Of course."
He ended the call.
Then he looked at Denise.
"You knew."
Denise folded her arms tighter.
"It wasn't that serious."
I felt something break inside me.
"I couldn't stand up without feeling dizzy."
"You recovered!"
"The doctor told me to come back!"
"You're being dramatic, Maya."
My father slammed his palm against the table.
"Enough!"
Everyone jumped.
He turned to me.
"Did you get the follow-up tests?"
I shook my head.
"Denise said the insurance wouldn't cover them."
"That's impossible. You're on my plan."
"She said the policy had been canceled."
My father stared at her.
"What policy?"
Denise opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
My father immediately called our insurance provider.
While he waited on hold, nobody spoke.
Then he asked the representative to confirm my coverage.
The woman explained that my coverage was active.
It had never been canceled.
My father thanked her and ended the call.
His eyes were filled with a kind of anger I had never seen.
"You lied to my daughter about her medical coverage?"
Denise shrugged.
"I didn't understand the paperwork."
"You understand every receipt for your children's designer clothes."
Tasha suddenly spoke.
"Mom knew the insurance was active."
Denise spun around.
"Tasha!"
"I heard you talking to Aunt Carla."
My heart began pounding.
Aunt Carla was Denise's younger sister.
She visited constantly.
Whenever she came over, Denise made me stay upstairs.
Tasha continued.
"You said Maya's hospital bills would raise questions."
My father went motionless.
"What questions?"
Tasha looked down.
"About the money."
Denise rushed toward her.
"Stop lying!"
But Dad caught Denise's arm before she reached Tasha.
"Don't touch her."
Tasha's voice shook.
"Mom took money from the education account."
The room went silent.
My father slowly released Denise.
"What education account?"
Tasha looked at me.
"The one Uncle Arthur created for all five of us."
I stared at her.
I knew my father had promised to help with college.
But I had never seen the account.
Denise always said the money wasn't ready.
My father took a step back.
"That account had almost two hundred thousand dollars."
I felt cold.
Two hundred thousand?
Denise began shaking her head.
"Arthur, please."
He took out his phone.
"How much is left?"
"Don't do this in front of the children."
"How much?"
She said nothing.
Dad opened his banking application.
He typed.
Waited.
Then looked at the screen.
His face changed completely.
I had never seen him look so devastated.
He whispered, "Thirty-four dollars?"
Denise covered her mouth.
Marcus whispered, "Mom?"
My father looked around the table.
"Where is the money?"
Nobody answered.
Then Tasha reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a small silver flash drive.
"I copied some things from Mom's laptop."
Denise screamed.
"Give me that!"
But Tasha moved behind my father.
"She was going to delete everything."
Dad held out his hand.
"What things?"
Tasha swallowed.
"Bank transfers. Property documents. Messages with Aunt Carla."
Denise began crying.
For the first time that evening, her tears looked real.
"Arthur, I can explain."
My father didn't even look at her.
He turned to me instead.
"Get your shoes, Maya. We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Somewhere you'll be safe."
I looked toward the staircase.
My bedroom was up there.
My books.
My photographs of my mother.
The only things I had managed to keep through six miserable years.
"Can I get my things?"
"Everything you need."
As we walked upstairs, I heard Denise crying behind us.
Then came the sound of her phone ringing.
Tasha appeared in the hallway.
"Uncle Arthur?"
Dad turned.
"Yes?"
She looked terrified.
"Mom just called Aunt Carla."
"And?"
Tasha's voice dropped to a whisper.
"She told her to empty the storage unit before morning."
May you like
I had no idea what was inside that storage unit.
But judging by my father's expression, we weren't leaving the house quite yet.
