Chapter 5
Jordan called me that night.
I almost ignored him.
But when I saw his name, I remembered every time I had helped him.
Every favor.
Every borrowed dollar.
Every moment I had tried to treat him like a real brother.
I answered.
"What do you want?"
He sounded nervous.
"Maya, we need to talk."
"Then talk."
"Not over the phone."
I looked toward Dad.
He was reviewing documents at the dining table.
"Why?"
"Because Mom's losing her mind."
I felt a bitter laugh rising.
"Maybe she should have thought about that before taking my money."
Jordan went silent.
Then he whispered, "I didn't know it was yours."
I closed my eyes.
"You knew something."
"Maya, listen."
"No. You listen."
My voice shook.
"You watched me work weekends. You watched Denise collect money from me. You lived in Dad's house for free."
He exhaled.
"That wasn't my decision."
"But you accepted it."
"Yeah."
I waited.
He continued.
"And I know that was wrong."
I sat down.
It was the first time he had ever admitted it.
Then he said, "There's something about the house you need to know."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
"Mom told me Grandma bought it as an investment. She said I could live there while I started my business."
"What business?"
"A fitness studio."
I remembered hearing him talk about opening one.
He had spent months designing a logo and ordering equipment.
I thought Denise was helping him with money from her own savings.
"Did you know where the investment money came from?"
"No."
"Then why was your name on the payment instructions?"
Silence.
I felt sick.
"Jordan?"
He swallowed.
"Mom asked me to prepare documents using a template from her accountant. She said they were routine business payments."
I stared at the wall.
"Did you sign anything?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"I signed an acknowledgment saying the money was for a property investment."
I closed my eyes.
"Jordan, that money came from my mother's trust."
He whispered, "I know that now."
I wanted to believe him.
But too many people had already lied to me.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because Grandma called me today."
I sat straighter.
"What did she say?"
"She told me to delete everything connected to the house."
My pulse quickened.
"Did you?"
He hesitated.
"I deleted my video."
I looked at Dad.
He noticed my expression and came closer.
Jordan continued.
"But I didn't delete the documents."
"Why not?"
"Because I got scared."
I took a breath.
"Then give them to Samuel."
"Mom will hate me."
The words hurt more than I expected.
There it was.
Even now, he was worried about Denise's feelings.
Not mine.
Not the money my mother left.
Not the years I spent paying for a household that never treated me equally.
I spoke quietly.
"Jordan, I spent eighteen months trying to earn your mother's approval."
He said nothing.
"And now you're asking me to protect her from the truth."
"No."
"Then do the right thing."
I ended the call.
Dad sat beside me.
"What happened?"
I told him everything.
He looked exhausted.
"I'll contact Samuel."
I nodded.
Then I asked something that had been bothering me.
"Dad, why did Denise have so much access to my trust?"
He sighed.
"She wasn't supposed to."
I stared at him.
"When Olivia died, Samuel and a licensed trust company handled the investments. You were the beneficiary."
"Then how did Denise become involved?"
"She offered to help you coordinate paperwork when you started college."
I remembered.
She had told me the trustee needed updated identification and tax forms.
She handled the communications because I was busy with school.
Dad continued.
"I allowed her to help with household matters, but I never authorized her to control your inheritance."
I swallowed.
"She probably used that trust."
He nodded sadly.
"That's what we're investigating."
The next morning, Jordan met Samuel at his office.
Dad and I attended with our attorney's permission.
Jordan looked different.
He hadn't shaved.
His eyes were red.
He carried a folder filled with papers.
When he saw me, he looked down.
"Maya."
I didn't answer.
Samuel invited everyone to sit.
Jordan placed the folder on the table.
"These are copies of the house documents."
Samuel began reviewing them.
I watched Jordan's hands.
They were shaking.
He looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
I stared at him.
"For what?"
He swallowed.
"For letting Mom treat you like that."
My eyes burned.
"You didn't just let her. You benefited."
He nodded.
"I know."
I wanted to shout.
Instead, I asked, "Did you ever wonder where all that money came from?"
He looked ashamed.
"I thought Mom had investments."
"She did."
He looked up.
I continued.
"Apparently, she invested my future in yours."
His face crumpled.
For the first time, I saw genuine shame.
But shame didn't erase what happened.
Samuel interrupted gently.
"Jordan, I need to clarify your role in these transfers."
Jordan nodded.
He explained that Denise had asked him to prepare spreadsheets and payment requests for Brooks Family Consulting.
He claimed he believed the company was funded by Lorraine's savings.
He also admitted that he had signed several documents without reviewing their supporting records.
Samuel asked whether he had ever seen my name.
Jordan hesitated.
"Yes."
My heart stopped.
"When?" Samuel asked.
Jordan looked at me.
"On one account statement."
I gripped the edge of my chair.
"And you didn't ask questions?"
He closed his eyes.
"Mom said it was a family investment account."
I laughed bitterly.
"Family."
Jordan lowered his head.
Samuel continued.
"Did Denise tell you Maya had approved the investment?"
Jordan nodded.
"She said Maya knew."
I wanted to cry.
Denise had used lies to manipulate both of us.
But Jordan had accepted them because they benefited him.
That was the difference.
I had lost money.
He had gained a house.
Samuel found something important in the folder.
An email chain between Denise, Lorraine, and a mortgage broker.
The messages discussed how to close the property purchase quickly.
One message from Lorraine caught my attention.
"Make sure Maya's authorization is complete before Marcus returns from Savannah."
My blood turned cold.
Dad leaned forward.
"That was intentional."
Samuel nodded.
"It certainly suggests they timed the transaction around your absence."
Then he opened another attachment.
It contained a property improvement budget.
Renovations.
Furniture.
Landscaping.
Luxury appliances.
The total was nearly eighty thousand dollars.
I stared at the list.
"Was this also paid with trust money?"
Samuel looked grim.
"We'll verify the payment sources."
Jordan covered his face.
"I didn't know."
I wanted to believe him.
But then Samuel turned the final page.
A handwritten note appeared beneath the contractor's invoice.
The note said:
"Jordan approved final upgrades. Charge remaining balance to Maya account."
I stared at my stepbrother.
He went completely pale.
Samuel looked at him.
"Jordan, explain this."
Jordan opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I felt tears sliding down my face.
Because whatever he claimed about the original purchase, he had known enough to approve renovations charged to an account with my name.
I looked directly at him.
"How many times did you see my name before you decided to ask where the money came from?"
He started crying.
"Maya, please."
I stood.
"No."
Dad rose beside me.
I looked at Jordan one last time.
"You don't get to call this a mistake until you tell the whole truth."
Then I walked out.
I thought I had finally reached the worst part of the betrayal.
But that afternoon, Samuel called with another discovery.
The house wasn't the only property connected to Brooks Family Consulting.
There was a second address.
A smaller house outside Atlanta.
And the ownership records listed a name I recognized immediately.
Olivia Thompson.
My dead mother.
I stared at the document Samuel sent.
My mother's name was attached to a property transaction dated four years after she died.
May you like
Someone hadn't merely taken her money.
Someone had been using her identity.
