Chapter 1
The tow truck was already lifting my car when I came home from a twelve-hour nursing shift.
I didn't even make it to the front door before I saw the red notices taped to the driver's window.
My stomach dropped.
That silver Honda was the first new car I had ever owned.
I had saved for the down payment while working overtime at the hospital.
Every monthly payment came from my paycheck.
And now a stranger was preparing to haul it away.
I ran toward the driver.
"Excuse me! What are you doing?"
The man stopped beside his truck.
He wore a navy uniform with reflective stripes.
"Ma'am, we're here for a vehicle repossession."
I stared at him.
"That can't be right."
He checked his paperwork.
"Silver Honda Accord. Registered to Nia Brooks."
"That's me."
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
I felt my knees weaken.
"There has to be a mistake."
He looked uncomfortable.
"I can show you the order."
I took the papers.
The account number was correct.
The vehicle identification number matched.
And the notice stated that several payments were overdue.
I couldn't understand it.
Every month, I transferred money into our joint household account.
Marcus was supposed to pay the car loan from there.
He had been handling our bills since we married four years earlier.
I trusted him.
Until that moment.
I looked toward our house.
The front door stood open.
Through the doorway, I could hear laughter.
My husband.
And his older brother.
I marched inside.
Marcus sat beside the coffee table wearing a charcoal-gray T-shirt and black shorts.
Darius sprawled across our gray sofa in a mustard-yellow shirt.
Takeout containers covered almost every inch of the table.
Fried chicken.
Barbecue ribs.
Seafood.
Two enormous drinks.
And enough food to feed a family twice our size.
Marcus held my car keys in his hand.
I snatched them away.
Then I slammed the repossession notice onto the table.
"WHY IS A TOW TRUCK TAKING MY CAR?"
Both men stopped eating.
Marcus looked up.
"Nia?"
I pointed toward the driveway.
"My car, Marcus! They're taking my car!"
He slowly stood.
"Baby, calm down."
Those words made something inside me snap.
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
Darius shifted on the sofa.
"Maybe you should lower your voice."
I turned toward him.
"Maybe you should stop eating long enough to understand why I'm angry."
His expression hardened.
I didn't care.
My feet were aching.
My back hurt.
I had spent twelve hours helping sick people while my own household fell apart.
And the two men in front of me looked as though they had spent the afternoon at a restaurant.
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"I missed a few payments."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"I was going to catch up."
"How many payments?"
He looked away.
"Marcus."
"Three."
My stomach dropped.
"Three months?"
He nodded.
I felt the room spinning.
"Where did the money go?"
He didn't answer.
I pointed toward the food.
"I've been working twelve-hour shifts while you two sit here spending money?"
Darius sat upright.
"Don't drag me into your marriage."
I laughed bitterly.
"You're sitting in my living room eating food I probably paid for."
Marcus stepped forward.
"Nia, that's enough."
I turned toward him.
"Enough?"
My voice cracked.
"You lied to me for three months!"
He folded his arms.
"I didn't lie."
"You told me the bills were paid."
"I said I was handling them."
"Then why is my car being taken?"
He looked toward Darius.
That was when I noticed it.
The glance.
The hesitation.
The silent understanding between them.
My chest tightened.
"Marcus, what did you do?"
Darius shifted uncomfortably.
Marcus sighed.
"I used some of the car money to help my brother."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I looked at Darius.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
Then I turned back toward my husband.
"You gave him my car payment?"
"Not all of it."
"How much?"
Marcus remained silent.
I stepped closer.
"How much?"
"About twenty-four hundred dollars."
My hands began trembling.
Twenty-four hundred dollars.
Money I had earned while working night shifts.
Money meant to keep the car I needed to get to the hospital.
I stared at him.
"Without asking me?"
Marcus looked irritated.
"He was having problems."
"And?"
"He's family."
Those two words hit me harder than anything else.
I looked at the man I had married.
The man who promised to love and protect me.
The man who knew how many shifts I worked.
The man who watched me leave home before sunrise and return with swollen feet.
I stepped closer.
"And what am I?"
Marcus opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Darius looked at the floor.
I waited.
Still nothing.
My eyes filled.
"Marcus, answer me."
He swallowed.
"Nia, don't make this into something bigger."
I laughed through my tears.
"Bigger?"
I pointed outside.
"My car is on a tow truck!"
He tried reaching for my arm.
I stepped away.
"Don't touch me."
His face tightened.
"You're embarrassing me."
I stared at him.
"You're embarrassed?"
Then a loud knock interrupted us.
The tow driver stood in the doorway.
"Ma'am?"
I turned.
He held a clipboard.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need your signature acknowledging receipt of the paperwork before we take the vehicle."
I walked toward him.
My hands were shaking.
Marcus followed.
"Wait. Maybe we can work something out."
The driver looked at him.
"Sir, I'm only authorized to follow the lender's instructions."
I took the clipboard.
The driver pointed toward the bottom of the page.
"Ma'am, before you sign anything, you should read this section."
I looked down.
There were several lines of printed information.
Account status.
Vehicle details.
Collection instructions.
Then I saw a heading.
VOLUNTARY SURRENDER AUTHORIZATION.
I frowned.
"What's this?"
The driver looked uncomfortable.
"That's the document the lender provided with the order."
I stared at the signature beneath it.
My heart stopped.
It wasn't mine.
The letters were unmistakable.
Marcus Brooks.
My husband.
I slowly turned around.
Marcus had gone pale.
Darius immediately looked away.
I stared at them.
Then I looked at the second name printed beneath the authorization.
AUTHORIZED VEHICLE CUSTODIAN.
Darius Brooks.
My knees nearly buckled.
This wasn't just a missed payment.
My husband had signed paperwork to surrender my car.
And his brother was involved.
I looked at Marcus.
"Why is your name on this?"
He swallowed.
"Nia, I can explain."
I turned toward Darius.
"Why is your name here too?"
He stared at the floor.
I felt cold all over.
Then I noticed something else.
A handwritten notation beside the surrender request.
"Vehicle delivered in satisfaction of private arrangement."
I looked back at the two men.
"What private arrangement?"
Neither answered.
The driver cleared his throat.
"Ma'am, there's another page."
I looked down.
He pointed to an attached financial statement.
At the top was a company name I had never heard before.
Brooks Family Transportation LLC.
And beneath it was my name.
Listed as a guarantor.
I stared at the paper.
I had never opened a transportation company.
I had never guaranteed a business loan.
And I had certainly never agreed to give away my car.
I slowly lifted my eyes.
"Marcus."
My voice was barely a whisper.
May you like
"What have you done with my name?"
His silence told me this nightmare had only begun.
