Chapter 6
I couldn't stop thinking about the insurance records.
For years, I'd believed Denise entered our lives because she loved my father.
Now I wondered whether she'd known exactly what Mom left behind.
Rachel warned us not to assume too much.
She explained that insurance records could contain names for many legitimate reasons.
But the connection was troubling enough to investigate.
Dad spent the next two days searching old files.
He found records from Mom's insurance agency.
Employment letters.
Benefit documents.
A few photographs.
One picture showed Mom standing with several coworkers at a holiday party.
Denise was in the background.
I stared at the photograph.
They had been in the same room.
Years before Denise became my stepmother.
I felt betrayed in a way I couldn't explain.
Not because Dad had done anything wrong by remarrying.
But because Denise had known a part of Mom's life and never told me.
She had listened while I talked about missing my mother.
She had watched me cry on birthdays.
She had held Mom's photograph in her hands.
And all that time, she'd known her.
Why keep that secret?
A few days later, Rachel called with an update.
The insurance agency's old compliance records confirmed that Mom had reported suspicious activity.
Denise had been questioned but had not been formally accused of stealing.
The investigation eventually identified errors involving another employee.
However, Denise had believed Mom was responsible for damaging her reputation.
Rachel had found correspondence in which Denise complained bitterly about being treated unfairly.
Dad listened quietly.
Then he asked, "Did she know about Maya's trust?"
Rachel hesitated.
"There's evidence she had general knowledge of the life insurance policy. But we haven't established that she knew the trust's later details."
I took a slow breath.
"So we don't know why she married Dad."
Rachel shook her head.
"No. And we shouldn't claim we do."
I appreciated her honesty.
But the uncertainty still hurt.
That evening, Dad sat with me on the porch.
He looked older than he had a week earlier.
His gray beard seemed more noticeable.
His shoulders were heavy.
"Maya," he said quietly, "I owe you an apology."
I looked at him.
"You already apologized."
He shook his head.
"Not enough."
I waited.
He stared toward the street.
"When I married Denise, I wanted us to be a complete family."
My throat tightened.
"I know."
"I thought giving Jordan the same things I gave you would make everything fair."
I looked down.
"But it never felt fair."
He nodded.
"Because it wasn't."
My eyes filled with tears.
Dad continued.
"I confused treating children equally with allowing one child to take from the other."
I swallowed.
"Jordan always got more."
"I know that now."
He turned toward me.
"And I should have noticed."
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked something I'd been afraid to say.
"Dad, did you stop loving Mom when you married Denise?"
His face crumpled.
"Oh, Maya."
I began crying.
"I know it's stupid."
"It's not stupid."
He reached for my hand.
"I never stopped loving your mother."
I looked at him.
"Then why did Denise act like she wasn't important?"
Dad shook his head.
"Because Denise didn't understand what your mother meant to us."
I wiped my face.
He continued.
"Your mother and I had a beautiful marriage. Losing her was the hardest thing I ever experienced."
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"When I met Denise, I thought I was ready to begin again."
I nodded.
"And you were allowed to."
He smiled sadly.
"Yes. But beginning again shouldn't mean erasing what came before."
I leaned against his shoulder.
For the first time in years, we spoke openly about Mom.
He told me stories I'd never heard.
How she used to sing while cooking.
How she once got lost driving to a wedding and arrived three hours late.
How she laughed so hard at his terrible jokes that she sometimes cried.
I listened until the stars appeared.
Then Dad said, "There's something I want to show you."
He led me into his office.
He opened the bottom drawer of his desk.
Inside was a wooden box.
I recognized it immediately.
Mom's jewelry box.
Dad lifted the lid.
Inside were her wedding ring, a pearl necklace, and several photographs.
Then he removed a sealed envelope.
My name was written on the front.
Maya, for your eighteenth birthday.
I stared at it.
"That's the letter!"
Dad nodded.
"I found it in the safe."
I felt confused.
"But it disappeared from my file box."
He looked troubled.
"Denise moved several documents into my safe months ago. I didn't realize what was inside."
I reached for the envelope.
Then stopped.
"Can I open it?"
Dad smiled gently.
"Your mother wanted you to have it when you turned eighteen."
I looked at the calendar.
My birthday was only six weeks away.
I took a slow breath.
"I'll wait."
Dad squeezed my shoulder.
"She would be proud of you."
I smiled through tears.
"Do you think so?"
"I know so."
The next morning, I returned to school.
My friends asked about the car.
Some had seen photographs online.
Jordan had posted a picture beside it before Dad returned the keys.
The caption said:
New ride. Big things coming.
Now everyone wanted to know why the post disappeared.
I didn't want to explain.
But one girl approached me after class.
Her name was Brianna.
She looked uncomfortable.
"Maya, can I ask you something?"
I nodded.
"Do you know Jordan's business partner?"
I frowned.
"What business partner?"
She hesitated.
"A guy named Leonard."
My stomach tightened.
"Leonard Price?"
She nodded.
"I think so."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
Brianna glanced around.
"Because my cousin gave Jordan money for his detailing business."
I felt cold.
"How much?"
"Five thousand dollars."
My heart pounded.
"Did he get anything back?"
She shook her head.
"Jordan keeps saying the equipment is delayed."
I stared at her.
Jordan had taken money from other people too?
Brianna continued.
"My cousin isn't the only one."
I felt sick.
"Who else?"
She named two former classmates.
Both had invested money in Jordan's supposed business.
Neither had received any repayment.
I returned home shaking.
I told Dad everything.
His face hardened.
He called Rachel.
Within an hour, she arranged to review the information.
The financial records showed something disturbing.
Jordan's company had received deposits from several young investors.
But many of the expenses had nothing to do with car detailing.
Travel.
Clothing.
Entertainment.
Expensive electronics.
I stared at the list.
"He's using other people's money."
Dad closed his eyes.
Rachel remained careful.
"We need to determine what Jordan represented to those investors and whether any laws were violated."
I nodded.
Then Dad asked whether the money taken from my savings had been used for the same expenses.
Rachel looked at another document.
"Some transfers appear connected."
My stomach tightened.
"How much?"
She paused.
"At least twenty thousand dollars."
I stared at Dad.
His face was filled with pain.
Then Rachel said something that surprised us both.
"There's also a transfer into an account controlled by Denise."
Dad looked up.
"What?"
Rachel continued.
"The amount is fifteen thousand dollars."
I felt cold.
"So she took money for herself too?"
Rachel nodded cautiously.
"The records show a transfer. We need to determine its purpose."
Dad leaned back.
For several moments, he looked completely defeated.
Then he stood.
"Enough."
I stared at him.
He took a deep breath.
"I'm not letting this continue."
He called his attorney.
Then he looked at me.
"Maya, I'm going to begin the separation process."
My heart pounded.
"Dad..."
He reached for my hand.
"This isn't because of you."
Tears filled my eyes.
"It's because I finally understand what has been happening in our home."
I hugged him.
He held me tightly.
And for the first time in years, I believed our family might actually heal.
But that night, Denise sent a message.
It wasn't to Dad.
It was to me.
You think you've won. Wait until your birthday.
I stared at the words.
My eighteenth birthday.
Six weeks away.
Then another message appeared.
Your mother left more than money, Maya.
May you like
My hands began trembling.
And suddenly, I was afraid of what else Denise knew.
