Chapter 4 - The Man Who Wanted the Title
Chris didn't shout when Mom admitted she'd given Andre twenty-four thousand dollars.
He simply sat down.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he asked, "When?"
Mom wiped her cheeks.
"Over the past year."
He looked at her.
"You've been sending him money for a year?"
She nodded.
Chris stared at the floor.
I wanted him to yell.
I wanted him to demand an explanation.
But his silence frightened me more than anger would have.
Finally, he looked up.
"Why?"
Mom took a shaky breath.
"Andre said he was behind on rent. Then he had car problems. Then he lost some work."
Chris closed his eyes.
"And you used Maya's education money?"
"I thought he'd pay it back."
I stepped forward.
"Mom, he hasn't even paid you back for the things he promised me."
She turned toward me.
"Maya, don't start."
I stared at her.
"Don't start?"
My voice cracked.
"You gave him money meant for my future!"
She began crying harder.
"He's your father."
I shook my head.
"Then why wasn't he acting like one?"
The room went silent.
Mom looked hurt.
But I couldn't stop.
"Why does Chris have to work for everything while Andre gets to take the credit?"
Chris looked toward me.
"Maya..."
I turned to him.
"No. I need to say this."
Tears streamed down my face.
"Mom keeps telling me Andre is my real dad. Fine. But where was he when I needed someone?"
She looked away.
I continued.
"When I had pneumonia, Chris slept in the hospital chair."
My voice trembled.
"When I failed my driving test, Chris took me back to practice."
I swallowed.
"When I got accepted into the summer leadership program, Chris celebrated with me."
I looked at Mom.
"Andre sent a thumbs-up emoji."
She covered her mouth.
I turned toward Chris.
"And now you're telling me he took money you saved for my college?"
Chris reached for my hand.
"Maya, breathe."
I sat beside him.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Mom stood across from us, crying.
Then Chris said something that stunned me.
"Natasha, I need you to leave for a few days."
She looked up sharply.
"What?"
"I need space."
Her face changed.
"You're kicking me out?"
"I'm asking you to stay with your sister while we work out what happened."
She pointed at me.
"Because she's turned you against me?"
Chris stood.
"Do not blame Maya."
Mom stepped back.
He continued.
"You made decisions with money we agreed was for her education. You hid those decisions. And now you're making our daughter responsible for the consequences."
Our daughter.
The words made my heart ache.
Mom heard them too.
Her expression tightened.
"She's not your biological daughter."
Chris looked exhausted.
"I know."
For the first time, he didn't sound angry.
He sounded finished with the argument.
"I've always known."
Mom opened her mouth.
He continued.
"And I never needed to pretend otherwise to love her."
She looked away.
That evening, Mom packed a suitcase.
I stayed in my room.
I didn't want to watch her leave.
But before she went, she knocked.
"Maya?"
I stared at the door.
"Come in."
She entered slowly.
Her eyes were swollen.
"Can we talk?"
I nodded.
She sat on the chair near my desk.
For a moment, she looked at the photographs on my wall.
Then she said, "I never wanted to hurt you."
I swallowed.
"Then why did you?"
She looked down.
"Because I thought I could fix things."
"What things?"
She hesitated.
"Andre has always struggled. I thought helping him would make him more involved in your life."
I stared at her.
"You paid him to be my father?"
She flinched.
"No."
"Then what were you doing?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"I wanted you to have a relationship with him."
I took a deep breath.
"Mom, you can't buy someone into loving me."
Her face crumpled.
I continued.
"And you can't keep hurting Chris because you feel guilty about Andre."
She wiped her cheeks.
"I know."
For the first time, she didn't argue.
But I wasn't ready to forgive her.
"I need time," I whispered.
She nodded.
"Okay."
When she left, I cried.
Not because I wanted her gone.
Because I still loved her.
And loving someone who hurt you was confusing.
The next morning, Andre called.
I watched his name appear on my screen.
Then I answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, princess."
I closed my eyes.
"Don't call me that right now."
He paused.
"What's wrong?"
I took a breath.
"Did Mom give you twenty-four thousand dollars?"
Silence.
Then he sighed.
"Maya, that's complicated."
My chest tightened.
"Yes or no?"
"She helped me through a difficult time."
I stared at the wall.
"That money was for college."
He cleared his throat.
"I didn't know that."
I wanted to believe him.
But something in his voice made me hesitate.
"Then why didn't you ask where it came from?"
He became defensive.
"Your mother offered."
I felt anger rising.
"And you accepted."
"Maya, I'm your father."
Those words finally broke something inside me.
"Then act like it."
He went silent.
I continued.
"You don't get to disappear for months and suddenly demand respect because we share DNA."
His voice hardened.
"Don't talk to me like that."
I took a shaky breath.
"Then stop making promises you won't keep."
I ended the call.
My hands were shaking.
But for the first time, I didn't feel guilty.
Later that afternoon, Chris and I went to a local formalwear shop.
He had insisted we keep our promise to plan for prom.
I didn't want to go.
Everything felt too complicated.
But he gently encouraged me.
"One difficult thing shouldn't take away every good thing."
So I tried.
We looked through racks of dresses.
Some were beautiful.
Some were ridiculous.
One made me look like a walking chandelier.
Chris laughed so hard that the saleswoman started laughing too.
For a moment, we were happy.
Then I found a dress.
Deep midnight blue.
Simple.
Elegant.
With tiny silver details near the neckline.
I stepped out of the fitting room.
Chris turned.
His face softened.
"Wow."
I looked nervously in the mirror.
"Do you like it?"
He smiled.
"Maya, you look beautiful."
My eyes filled.
It cost two hundred and eighty dollars.
Not twelve hundred.
And somehow, I loved it more than the expensive dress Mom had chosen.
Chris noticed the price tag.
He smiled.
"Now that's smart shopping."
I laughed.
Then I looked at him.
"Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for coming."
His expression softened.
"Always, sweetheart."
That evening, we returned home carrying the dress.
For the first time in days, I felt hopeful.
Then Chris received an email from the bank.
He read it silently.
His expression changed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He stared at the screen.
"The education account wasn't the only thing Natasha used."
My stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?"
He looked at me.
"There's another account."
May you like
I felt cold.
"And Andre's name is connected to it."
