Chapter 6
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the insurance application.
My name.
My date of birth.
My financial information.
And a business connected to Victor.
I sat in my study until sunrise.
Then I heard a soft knock.
"Dad?"
Maya stood in the doorway.
She wore an oversized sweatshirt.
Her graduation braids were tied back.
Her eyes looked tired.
I forced a smile.
"Morning, baby girl."
She stepped inside.
"Did you sleep?"
I shook my head.
She nodded.
"Me neither."
For a moment, we looked at each other.
Then she sat beside me.
"Dad, can I ask something?"
"Anything."
She swallowed.
"Do you think Mom wanted something bad to happen to you?"
My chest tightened.
I took a breath.
"I don't know."
Her eyes filled.
I continued.
"But we're going to let the investigators find the truth."
She nodded.
Then whispered,
"I'm scared."
I pulled her into my arms.
"Me too."
For years, I had tried to be the strong father who never admitted fear.
But Maya was eighteen.
She knew when I was pretending.
And I didn't want to teach her that courage meant hiding every emotion.
I kissed her forehead.
"We're going to handle this together."
She nodded against my shoulder.
The next morning, Olivia arranged a meeting with Detective Simone Carter.
The detective specialized in financial fraud investigations.
She reviewed the insurance application.
Then explained what investigators knew.
The application was incomplete.
No policy had been issued.
But someone had submitted information about my business and financial status.
I exhaled.
At least there wasn't an active policy.
Detective Carter continued.
"The stated purpose was business loan protection."
I frowned.
"Loan protection?"
She nodded.
"Victor's company claimed your financial guarantee created an insurable business interest."
My stomach tightened.
"But I never guaranteed the loans."
"That's one of the issues under investigation."
I looked down.
The forged signatures.
The missing money.
The false examination accusation.
Everything seemed connected.
Then the detective asked,
"Did Denise ever pressure you to undergo medical testing?"
I froze.
I remembered something.
Three months earlier, Denise insisted I schedule a physical examination.
She said our insurance premiums could be reduced.
I agreed.
I went to the clinic.
Had blood tests.
Completed paperwork.
And sent the results to our insurance broker.
I thought it was routine.
Now my stomach twisted.
"Yes."
The detective made a note.
"Did Victor receive those records?"
I shook my head.
"Not that I know."
She nodded.
"We'll investigate."
I felt sick.
How many decisions had I made without reading the documents carefully?
How many times had I trusted Denise simply because she was my wife?
I thought about Daniel.
Our son.
The little boy who loved dinosaurs.
The child who used to sleep with a blue stuffed elephant.
After he died, Denise changed.
She became obsessed with controlling everything.
At first, I thought it was grief.
Maybe it was.
But grief didn't excuse fraud.
And it certainly didn't excuse destroying Maya's future.
Later that afternoon, I visited Daniel's grave.
I hadn't been there alone in months.
The headstone stood beneath a small oak tree.
I knelt beside it.
"Hey, buddy."
My voice broke.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I whispered,
"Daddy's having a hard time."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I touched the stone.
"I wish I knew what to do."
The wind moved gently through the leaves.
I thought about the day Daniel was born.
The way Denise cried when she held him.
The way Maya, then only two years old, insisted on kissing his little feet.
We had been happy.
God, we had been happy.
Then Daniel got sick.
And everything changed.
I looked at the headstone.
"Your sister is graduating, buddy."
I smiled through tears.
"She did it."
Then I whispered,
"I wish you could've seen her."
For a long time, I stayed there.
When I finally stood, my phone rang.
Jasmine.
My younger sister.
She had been helping Olivia review some old family records.
I answered.
"Hey."
Her voice sounded urgent.
"Marcus, we found something."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The memorial fund."
I froze.
"Daniel's?"
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"What about it?"
Jasmine took a breath.
"The fund wasn't completely lost."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
She continued.
"Some of the money was transferred into an account Victor still controls."
I stared.
"How much?"
"Almost ninety thousand dollars."
I covered my mouth.
The donations had been intended for children's medical assistance.
Families had given money in Daniel's memory.
And Victor still controlled part of it.
I felt anger rise.
Then Jasmine continued.
"There's more."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Denise signed several transfers herself."
I closed my eyes.
My wife had told me Victor made all the investment decisions.
Now records showed she actively participated.
I took a breath.
"Send everything to Olivia."
Jasmine nodded.
"Already done."
That evening, Maya found me in the living room.
I was staring at an old family photograph.
Daniel sat between us on the sofa.
He was wearing a red sweater.
Maya had her arm around him.
Denise smiled beside me.
We looked like the perfect family.
Maya sat beside me.
"Dad?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
She touched the photograph.
"I miss him."
My eyes filled.
"Me too."
She swallowed.
"Do you think Mom was happier before he died?"
I thought carefully.
"Yes."
Maya looked down.
Then whispered,
"Sometimes I think she stopped loving me because I was the one who survived."
My heart shattered.
I turned toward her.
"Baby girl, listen to me."
She looked up.
"Daniel's death was not your fault."
Tears filled her eyes.
I continued.
"And you never had to earn the right to be here."
She began sobbing.
I pulled her close.
For a long time, we cried together.
Then she whispered,
"Dad, Mom told me once that I should've been the one who got sick."
My whole body went cold.
I stared at her.
"What?"
She nodded through tears.
"She said it during an argument."
I couldn't breathe.
"When?"
"Two years ago."
My hands began shaking.
The same period as the examination scandal.
The same period when Maya began withdrawing.
The same period when she told me she didn't want to live.
I felt sick.
I pulled her closer.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She began crying harder.
"I thought maybe she meant it."
I kissed her forehead.
"No."
My voice broke.
"You were never supposed to carry that."
Then my phone rang.
Detective Carter.
I answered with shaking hands.
Her voice was serious.
"Marcus, we've located Victor."
My heart pounded.
"Where?"
"At a private financial office outside Atlanta."
I swallowed.
"Did he cooperate?"
She hesitated.
"Not yet."
Then she continued.
"But investigators recovered documents showing he planned to move several accounts before the end of the month."
My stomach tightened.
"And Denise?"
The detective paused.
"Her name appears on the authorization forms."
I closed my eyes.
Then she added,
"Marcus, there's something else you need to know."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
"One of the accounts contains money belonging to another family."
I frowned.
"What family?"
She took a breath.
"The family of a child who died in the same hospital as Daniel."
May you like
I stopped breathing.
Because suddenly, I realized Victor's scheme might have begun with grieving parents long before he ever targeted our daughter.
