Chapter 4
Rebecca arrived at my house that afternoon.
She brought a forensic accountant named Thomas Reed and a thick file containing the documents from my father's estate.
Vanessa stayed in the bedroom.
Maya sat beside me at the dining table, drawing quietly while the adults spoke in low voices.
Rebecca examined the forged transfer authorization first.
"The signature is suspicious," she said. "But we'll need professional verification before drawing a final conclusion."
Thomas opened his laptop.
"The trust transactions are more concerning. Several withdrawals were authorized through a secondary account that appears to have been established using information from the original estate paperwork."
I frowned.
"Who opened it?"
"We're still tracing the account. The application lists a company controlled by Andre."
I stared at the screen.
"Why would he have access to information about Maya's trust?"
Rebecca removed another document from her file.
"Because your father included a contingency provision in his estate plan."
I looked at her.
"What provision?"
She slid the page across the table.
My father had been a careful man. He had built a successful construction business from nothing and taught me that money was only useful when it protected the people you loved.
He had also been suspicious of family disputes.
According to the document, if I became incapacitated or died before Maya reached adulthood, a designated trustee would manage certain assets for her benefit.
The designated trustee was Andre.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Why him?"
"Your father believed Andre needed responsibility," Rebecca explained. "He hoped the position would encourage him to become more dependable."
I almost laughed.
My father had always been generous with second chances.
Sometimes I wondered whether that generosity had blinded him to the damage his decisions could cause.
"Does this give Andre control over Maya's trust now?"
"No. The provision concerns specific assets under certain conditions. It does not authorize him to withdraw money from her existing account."
"Then why would he try to transfer my property?"
Rebecca turned another page.
"Because your father also created a separate holding arrangement for the commercial property. If a transfer were completed improperly, it could trigger a dispute over the ownership structure."
I stared at her.
"Could Andre profit from that?"
"Potentially. But we need the full records before we can establish his intentions."
Thomas interrupted.
"I found something else."
He rotated his laptop.
The screen displayed a list of payments from an account connected to Andre's company.
Several transfers had gone to an unfamiliar consulting firm.
The dates matched the months when money disappeared from Maya's trust.
"Who owns this firm?" I asked.
"We haven't confirmed the ultimate beneficiary yet," Thomas said. "But the business registration lists Denise as an authorized officer."
My sister.
I closed my eyes.
For years, Denise had told everyone that she was struggling financially. I had paid her rent twice, covered a medical bill she couldn't afford, and helped her purchase a used car.
She had thanked me with tears in her eyes.
Apparently, some of those tears had been real.
They just hadn't meant what I thought.
Rebecca closed the file.
"We should contact the appropriate authorities and preserve everything. Do not attempt to negotiate privately."
"What if they move the money?"
"We're already notifying the financial institutions. But Marcus, there is something else you need to consider."
I looked at her.
"If Andre believes the transfer is about to be exposed, he may try to destroy evidence or pressure people into changing their stories."
I glanced toward the staircase.
"Maya."
Rebecca nodded.
"We should make arrangements to ensure she feels safe and has no unsupervised contact with anyone involved."
Maya stopped drawing.
"Does that mean Uncle Andre can't come here anymore?"
I turned toward her.
"Not until we know what's happening."
She nodded, but her eyes filled with tears.
"I liked him."
I reached for her hand.
"I know."
"He used to bring me books."
"I know, sweetheart."
"He told me I was his favorite niece."
I swallowed.
"None of this is your fault."
She stared at the drawing in front of her.
"I thought if I told you, everyone would hate me."
The words hit harder than anything Andre could have said.
I moved my chair closer.
"Why would you think that?"
"Mom always said I caused problems when I asked questions."
I looked toward the staircase.
Vanessa had been in the house for only a few minutes when Maya made that recording. Yet the fear in my daughter's voice suggested this had been building for months.
"Has she been saying that for a long time?"
Maya nodded.
"She said you were tired of me."
I felt something inside me crack.
"She said you wanted a new family, and I was making it difficult."
I pulled Maya into my arms.
"Listen to me. I will never stop being your father because somebody tells you otherwise."
She began to cry.
I held her until her breathing settled.
For the first time since discovering the recording, I stopped thinking about the money.
The property could be recovered.
The forged signature could be investigated.
But no legal process could return the months my daughter had spent believing she was unwanted.
Later that evening, Rebecca called me into the office.
She had found a reference to my father's missing original will in an old correspondence file.
A letter dated six weeks before his death mentioned a meeting with Andre.
The letter contained one sentence that made Rebecca go silent.
"If my sons ever begin fighting over what I leave behind, make sure Maya is protected first."
I stared at the page.
"Why would he write that?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"I don't know yet."
She handed me another document.
It was a photocopy of a handwritten note from my father.
The note referred to a sealed envelope he had entrusted to someone shortly before his death.
The envelope contained instructions concerning the commercial property and the future of the family business.
According to the note, it was supposed to remain with the estate attorney until a specific condition was met.
But the estate attorney had retired years ago.
And nobody could locate the envelope.
I read the note again.
Then I noticed the initials at the bottom.
A.D.
Andre Davis.
May you like
My brother hadn't simply become involved in this scheme recently.
He might have been waiting for years.
