Chapter 3
My father picked up Denise's phone from the vanity.
He didn't open it.
He simply turned the glowing screen toward her.
"What house?"
Denise wiped her cheeks.
"My mother doesn't know what she's talking about."
Dad stared at her.
"Then call her."
Denise hesitated.
"Marcus—"
"Call your mother and ask her to explain that message."
She reached for the phone.
For a moment, I thought she might do it.
Instead, she pressed the side button and turned off the screen.
"I won't be bullied in my own home."
Dad stepped back.
"Fine."
He looked at me.
"Maya, get your things."
My heart dropped.
"What?"
"You're coming with me."
I glanced toward Denise.
She was watching us carefully.
"Dad, where are we going?"
"Somewhere we can think without being manipulated."
Denise laughed sharply.
"You're leaving your wife because your daughter found some paperwork?"
Dad turned.
"I'm taking my daughter somewhere safe while we sort this out."
"You're choosing her over me."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"You're asking me to choose between protecting my daughter and protecting someone who has been taking advantage of her."
Denise said nothing.
Dad continued.
"That's not a difficult choice."
I followed him out of the bedroom.
My legs felt strangely weak.
I had imagined confronting Denise so many times.
In my imagination, she always apologized.
She admitted she had been unfair.
She told me she loved me.
And somehow, everything went back to normal.
Instead, my father was packing a suitcase.
My inheritance might be gone.
And our family was falling apart.
I stood in my bedroom, staring at the photographs on my dresser.
One showed Mom holding me at my eighth birthday party.
Another showed Dad teaching me to ride a bicycle.
The third was from his wedding to Denise.
We were all smiling.
I picked up the wedding photograph.
My younger self looked genuinely happy.
I remembered how proud I felt wearing the pale blue dress Denise had chosen.
I thought I was gaining another mother.
Now I wondered whether she had ever loved me.
Dad appeared in the doorway.
"Sweetheart?"
I quickly wiped my eyes.
"I'm ready."
He looked at the photograph in my hand.
Then at my face.
"You don't have to pretend you're okay."
I tried to smile.
"I'm not."
He stepped closer.
"I know."
We left twenty minutes later.
Jordan was standing in the hallway outside the guest suite.
He wore sweatpants and held a gaming controller.
"What's going on?"
Dad stopped.
"Ask your mother."
Jordan frowned.
"She said Maya was causing trouble."
I felt my face grow hot.
"Of course she did."
Jordan looked at me.
"What did you do?"
I stared at him.
"Nothing."
He laughed.
"Come on, Maya. Mom's downstairs freaking out."
Dad stepped forward.
"Jordan, this isn't something you should joke about."
Jordan's expression changed.
"What's the problem?"
"Your mother has been collecting money from Maya and transferring it to Lorraine."
Jordan shrugged.
"So?"
I felt sick.
"So?"
He looked confused.
"Mom said Maya was paying rent."
"Did she tell you how much?" Dad asked.
Jordan hesitated.
"No."
"One thousand dollars every month."
Jordan's eyes widened.
Then he looked at me.
"Seriously?"
I nodded.
He lowered the controller.
"That's insane."
For a moment, I felt relieved.
Then he added, "I thought it was only five hundred."
The hallway went silent.
Dad stared at him.
"What did you just say?"
Jordan swallowed.
"Nothing."
"Jordan."
He looked toward the stairs.
"Mom mentioned Maya paying rent. I didn't know it was that much."
I studied his face.
Something about his reaction bothered me.
"You knew I was paying?"
He nodded reluctantly.
"Yeah."
"And you never wondered why you weren't?"
His jaw tightened.
"That's between you and Mom."
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
"Of course it is."
Dad guided me toward the stairs.
"We're leaving."
Jordan followed.
"Wait. Is Mom in trouble?"
Dad looked at him.
"That depends on what the investigation finds."
Jordan's face changed.
"Investigation?"
"Yes."
Jordan stepped backward.
Then he said something strange.
"Look, I don't know anything about Mom's business."
I stopped.
"What business?"
He looked away.
Dad turned slowly.
"Jordan, what business?"
Jordan shook his head.
"Forget it."
But I couldn't.
Because Lorraine's message had mentioned a house.
And Denise had transferred money to something called Brooks Family Consulting.
Now Jordan was talking about a business nobody had mentioned before.
Dad took a breath.
"If you know something, now is the time to tell us."
Jordan stared at the floor.
Then he said, "Mom told me Grandma was buying property."
My stomach tightened.
"What property?"
"I don't know."
"Jordan."
He looked irritated.
"She said it was an investment. I wasn't involved."
Dad studied him.
"Did your mother give you money?"
Jordan hesitated.
"She helps me sometimes."
"How much?"
He shrugged.
"Just normal stuff."
I wanted to scream.
Normal stuff.
While I worked two jobs and counted every dollar, Denise was giving money to her adult son.
Money that might have belonged to me.
Dad didn't argue.
He simply said, "We'll discuss this later."
Then he took my suitcase downstairs.
We drove to a hotel near his office.
Neither of us spoke for the first ten minutes.
Then Dad pulled into a quiet parking lot.
He turned off the engine.
"Maya."
I looked at him.
His eyes were wet.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"Dad, you didn't know."
"I should have."
"You were working."
"That's not an excuse."
He took a breath.
"I trusted Denise to treat you like family."
I stared through the windshield.
"So did I."
He reached for my hand.
"I should have asked questions."
I looked at him.
"Would you have believed me if I told you earlier?"
The question came out before I could stop it.
Dad looked devastated.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"Even if Denise said I was lying?"
He hesitated.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
Then he answered.
"I want to say yes without thinking. But I don't know whether I would have understood immediately."
My chest tightened.
He continued.
"And that means I failed you in a way I need to face."
I started crying.
I hadn't expected him to be so honest.
He leaned toward me.
"I can't change the last eighteen months."
"I know."
"But I can promise you something."
I looked at him.
"From now on, you won't have to fight this alone."
I squeezed his hand.
For the first time that day, I believed we might survive.
The following morning, Samuel Reed met us at his office.
He had requested copies of the trust records and the suspicious trustee amendment.
He showed us a chart of the transfers.
There were several large payments.
The $248,000 receipt was one.
Another $96,000 had gone to an investment account.
A third payment of $72,000 had been sent to a company called Heritage Residential Holdings.
My stomach twisted.
"How much is missing?"
Samuel looked at me carefully.
"We're still tracing everything. The records indicate at least $416,000 left the trust through disputed transactions."
I covered my mouth.
Dad leaned forward.
"Can we recover it?"
"We'll pursue every available legal remedy."
Samuel pointed to the third transfer.
"Heritage Residential Holdings purchased a residential property outside Atlanta."
I remembered Lorraine's message.
The house.
"Who owns the company?" I asked.
Samuel turned another page.
"According to the corporate registration, Lorraine Brooks is the managing member."
My heart pounded.
"Denise's mother."
He nodded.
Dad's face darkened.
"Where is the property?"
Samuel placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed a beautiful two-story house with white columns and a wide driveway.
I stared at it.
Then I recognized the front entrance.
I had seen it in photographs on Jordan's social media account.
He had posted pictures from a party there three months earlier.
I leaned forward.
"Wait."
Dad looked at me.
"What is it?"
I pointed at the picture.
"Jordan has been going there."
Samuel frowned.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded.
"He posted a video from that house."
Dad slowly turned toward me.
"And what did he say about it?"
My voice shook.
"He called it his new place."
The room went silent.
I stared at the photograph.
While I had been paying rent in my father's house, Denise had been using my mother's money to help buy another one.
May you like
A house connected to her own son.
And I finally understood why Jordan had looked so frightened when Dad mentioned an investigation.
