Chapter 3
I read the bank alert three times.
Nine thousand eight hundred dollars.
My savings.
Money I had spent years putting aside.
Gone.
I had been saving for a down payment on a small house.
Not a mansion.
Not some luxury property.
Just a home where I could feel secure.
And now my husband had tried to take that too.
I looked at Marcus.
"Did you transfer money from my savings?"
He stared at the floor.
"Marcus!"
He flinched.
"I was going to replace it."
I felt sick.
"That's not what I asked."
He nodded.
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
Darius stood.
"Look, we can fix this."
I turned toward him.
"Sit down."
He hesitated.
"Don't tell me what to do."
I stared at him.
"You're sitting in the house I help pay for while my money disappears into your imaginary business."
His face hardened.
"You're disrespectful."
I laughed bitterly.
"Disrespectful?"
I pointed toward the bank alert.
"You stole from me!"
Marcus stepped forward.
"Nia, let's not use words like that."
I stared at him.
"What word would you prefer?"
He didn't answer.
"Borrowed?"
I shook my head.
"Because people ask before they borrow."
Tears filled my eyes.
"And I never agreed to any of this."
I opened my banking app.
The transfer was still pending.
I called the bank immediately.
A representative confirmed that the transaction had been initiated using online credentials associated with my account.
I reported it as unauthorized.
The bank placed restrictions on outgoing transfers while the dispute was reviewed.
I requested new login credentials and additional security measures.
Then I asked whether any other transactions had occurred.
The representative hesitated.
"Mrs. Brooks, I'm seeing several recent transfers."
My stomach tightened.
"How many?"
"Four."
I gripped the table.
"How much altogether?"
She read the amounts.
$1,200.
$850.
$2,400.
And another $3,000.
I stared at the wall.
Seven thousand four hundred and fifty dollars had already left my account.
The pending transfer would have pushed the total above seventeen thousand.
I felt my knees weaken.
"Where did the money go?"
The representative explained that the transfers appeared to have been sent to accounts associated with my household.
I requested the records.
Then I ended the call.
Marcus looked frightened.
"Nia, I can explain."
I turned toward him.
"Explain what?"
He swallowed.
"Things got out of control."
I stared at him.
"Out of control?"
He nodded.
"Darius had a business opportunity."
I looked at his brother.
"What opportunity?"
Darius folded his arms.
"A transportation contract."
"With whom?"
He hesitated.
"A company in Atlanta."
"What company?"
He looked away.
I laughed bitterly.
"You don't know, do you?"
He stood.
"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid."
I stepped closer.
"Then stop treating me like I am."
Marcus moved between us.
"Enough!"
I stared at my husband.
For a moment, I almost didn't recognize him.
He looked angry.
Not at his brother.
At me.
I felt something inside me break.
"Marcus, whose side are you on?"
He closed his eyes.
"Nia, don't do this."
I stepped backward.
"Don't do what?"
"Make me choose between you and my brother."
I stared at him.
Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I had spent four years believing I was his family.
Now I understood that I was only useful when my paycheck was needed.
I took a slow breath.
"You already chose."
His face changed.
"Nia..."
I shook my head.
"You chose him every time you took my money without asking."
I walked toward the bedroom.
Marcus followed.
"Where are you going?"
"To get my things."
He stopped.
"What?"
"I'm not staying here tonight."
He reached for my arm.
I pulled away.
"Don't."
His eyes filled.
"Baby, please."
I turned toward him.
"I need space."
He looked devastated.
I wanted to feel sorry for him.
But I couldn't.
Not yet.
I packed a small suitcase.
Scrubs.
A few changes of clothes.
My identification documents.
My laptop.
And the photograph of my mother that sat beside our bed.
Then I called my best friend, Jasmine.
She answered immediately.
"Nia?"
I tried speaking.
Nothing came out.
My throat closed.
Jasmine's voice changed.
"What's wrong?"
I began crying.
"Can I stay with you?"
"Of course."
She didn't ask questions.
She didn't hesitate.
"Come over."
I looked at the suitcase.
Then at Marcus standing in the doorway.
He looked frightened.
"Who are you calling?"
"Jasmine."
He shook his head.
"Don't involve other people."
I stared at him.
"You involved your brother in our finances."
He looked away.
"I'm allowed to ask my best friend for help."
I walked past him.
Darius stood in the living room.
He looked annoyed.
"You're really leaving over money?"
I stopped.
Then turned toward him.
"No."
He smirked.
"Then what?"
I looked directly into his eyes.
"I'm leaving because my husband lied to me, stole from me, and put my future at risk."
His expression changed.
I continued.
"And you helped him."
Then I walked out.
I didn't have my car.
So Jasmine came to get me.
When she pulled into the driveway, I nearly collapsed with relief.
She jumped out.
"Nia!"
I ran into her arms.
She held me tightly.
"What happened?"
I shook my head.
"I'll tell you everything."
She helped me load my suitcase.
Marcus stood on the porch.
He looked small.
For the first time, I saw fear on his face.
But I couldn't stop.
I got into Jasmine's car.
And we drove away.
That night, I sat at her kitchen table.
She made tea.
I told her everything.
The repossession.
The forged signature.
The business loan.
The missing savings.
Jasmine listened without interrupting.
Then she said something that changed my thinking.
"Nia, this isn't just a marriage problem."
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She leaned forward.
"This could be financial fraud."
I stared at my hands.
She continued.
"You need to protect yourself legally."
I nodded slowly.
"I know."
She reached for my hand.
"And you need to stop believing Marcus will fix this just because he says he will."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
"I loved him."
Jasmine squeezed my fingers.
"I know."
I looked down.
"I still do."
She nodded.
"That doesn't mean you have to let him destroy your life."
I cried again.
Later that night, I checked my email.
A new message had arrived from the lender associated with Brooks Family Transportation LLC.
The subject line read:
NOTICE OF DEFAULT AND PERSONAL GUARANTEE REVIEW.
I opened it.
Then I froze.
The business loan wasn't forty-eight thousand dollars anymore.
Additional fees and obligations had pushed the claimed balance above sixty thousand.
And my name appeared as one of the responsible parties.
I stared at the screen.
Then I noticed an attachment.
A scanned copy of the guarantee agreement.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
But something about it was wrong.
I enlarged the image.
Then I realized.
The signature had been copied from an old hospital employment form.
I recognized the exact flourish on the final letter.
Even the tiny ink mark beside my surname was identical.
I had signed that employment form three years earlier.
And only one person outside the hospital had ever handled a copy.
Marcus.
I covered my mouth.
My husband hadn't simply signed my name.
He had taken an old signature and placed it onto a financial document.
I immediately forwarded the attachment to Jasmine.
She looked at it.
Then she stared at me.
"Nia, you need an attorney."
I nodded.
But before I could answer, my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I hesitated.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice spoke quietly.
"Is this Nia Brooks?"
"Yes."
"My name is Tasha Reed. I used to work with Darius."
My heart began pounding.
"What do you want?"
She took a shaky breath.
"I think you need to know something about that transportation company."
I gripped the phone.
"What?"
She whispered, "There never was a transportation company."
May you like
I stopped breathing.
And suddenly, I realized my husband and his brother had been hiding something far worse than unpaid car bills.
