Chapter 8
Rebecca helped Dad obtain the records needed to investigate Denise's past.
We didn't break into the storage unit.
We didn't search through private property without authorization.
Dad followed Rebecca's advice and allowed the investigators to handle anything that might be evidence.
At first, the waiting felt unbearable.
Every morning, I checked my bank account.
Every afternoon, I checked my college application.
Every evening, I wondered whether Denise was planning something else.
But slowly, the situation began to change.
The university confirmed that my enrollment remained active.
The financial aid office helped me update my contact information and secure my student account.
Dad paid my tuition deposit directly to the university.
When I received the confirmation email, I cried.
Not because all the problems were solved.
Because something Denise had tried to destroy was finally safe.
I printed the confirmation and placed it beside my mother's photograph.
Then I whispered, "I'm going, Mom."
For the first time, I could say it without feeling afraid.
A week later, Rebecca called with news about the storage unit.
Investigators had obtained records connected to Denise's financial activities, including documents that suggested her debts began before she married Dad.
The evidence also revealed that D&J Lifestyle Solutions was not Denise's first failed business venture.
She had previously been involved in another company with Raymond.
That company had collapsed after serious financial problems.
Several creditors had pursued repayment.
And Denise had reportedly continued seeking financing after the company closed.
But the most painful discovery came from an old email.
It had been sent to Raymond shortly before Dad and Denise married.
Rebecca read the relevant portion to us.
Denise had written that she expected her marriage to provide financial stability and access to better opportunities.
The message referred to Dad's house and business.
It discussed his income.
And it mentioned me.
I sat perfectly still.
"What did she say about me?"
Dad looked devastated.
Rebecca hesitated.
"Jasmine, you don't have to hear this."
"Please."
She took a breath.
"The message says you were young enough that Denise expected she could eventually influence household decisions involving your finances."
I felt as though all the air had left the room.
I had been fourteen when Denise married Dad.
Fourteen.
I had just started high school.
I still slept with the stuffed bear my mother had given me.
I had wanted someone to help me choose dresses for school dances and teach me things I couldn't ask Dad.
Denise had looked at me and seen a financial opportunity.
I stood abruptly.
"I need some air."
Dad followed me into the backyard.
I walked to the fence and stared at the trees.
He remained several feet behind me.
"Jasmine."
I shook my head.
"Please don't tell me she's misunderstood."
He looked stricken.
"I wasn't going to."
Tears streamed down my face.
"Was any of it real?"
Dad didn't answer immediately.
I turned toward him.
"She took me shopping when I got my first job. She helped me decorate my room. She made me a birthday cake when I turned sixteen."
My voice broke.
"Was she pretending the whole time?"
Dad approached slowly.
"I don't know what was in her heart during every moment."
I covered my face.
"But I know her decisions have hurt you," he continued. "And I know you deserved better."
I began sobbing.
He held me.
For years, I had tried to understand why Denise seemed loving one day and cruel the next.
Now I wondered whether the good moments had simply kept me close enough for her to control.
Dad stroked my hair.
"I'm sorry I brought someone into our home who treated you this way."
I clung to him.
"I know you didn't mean to."
"That doesn't mean I shouldn't have noticed."
We stood together until my breathing settled.
Then Dad said something that surprised me.
"I'm going to file for divorce."
I pulled back.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"I've spoken with Rebecca about the options. I can't rebuild trust with someone who deliberately targeted my daughter."
I stared at him.
"Even if she says she's sorry?"
"An apology doesn't erase years of deception."
I swallowed.
"What about Jordan?"
Dad sighed.
"Jordan is an adult. He needs to make his own choices."
I looked toward the house.
Jordan had been working at the auto parts store for five days.
He came home exhausted.
He had stopped asking Dad for spending money.
And he had begun paying back the amount he personally benefited from, using a repayment plan he arranged through Rebecca.
I still didn't fully trust him.
But I could see that he was trying.
"He's different from Denise," I said quietly.
Dad nodded.
"I know."
That evening, Denise called.
Dad answered on speaker with Rebecca's guidance.
Her voice was sharp.
"Marcus, I hear you're trying to ruin me."
Dad remained calm.
"I'm pursuing legal advice about our marriage and protecting the assets you tried to use."
Denise laughed bitterly.
"After everything I sacrificed for your family?"
I felt my anger rise.
Dad replied, "You took money from my daughter."
"I was going to return it!"
"You tried to interfere with her enrollment."
"That wasn't what you think."
"You submitted documents using information you weren't authorized to use."
Denise went silent.
Then she said, "Raymond told me it would be fine."
Dad looked at me.
For the first time, Denise had admitted Raymond's involvement in the arrangements.
Rebecca immediately began taking notes.
Dad asked, "What exactly did Raymond tell you?"
Denise hesitated.
"He said the business would succeed if we could get enough financing."
"And you believed him?"
"I wanted something of my own!"
"You already had a family."
Her voice cracked.
"You never understood what it felt like to depend on you."
Dad closed his eyes.
"You could have built a business honestly."
"I tried!"
"Not with my daughter's money."
There was a long silence.
Then Denise whispered, "I didn't mean for it to get this far."
I stepped closer.
"Then why did you try to cancel my college?"
She stopped breathing.
I could hear it through the phone.
"Jasmine?"
"Why?"
Her voice trembled.
"Because I was scared you would find out about the withdrawals when you started paying tuition."
I felt sick.
"So you wanted me to stay home?"
"I thought if you delayed college, I'd have time to replace the money."
"With more borrowed money?"
She didn't answer.
I wiped my cheeks.
"You were willing to ruin my future to hide what you'd done."
Denise began crying.
"I'm sorry."
For years, I had wanted those words.
But when they finally came, they didn't heal anything.
I looked at Dad.
Then I spoke into the phone.
"I don't know if I'll ever forgive you."
Denise sobbed.
"Jasmine, please."
"I wanted you to be my mother."
My voice cracked.
"But you wanted me to be your bank."
I ended the call.
Dad wrapped his arms around me.
I cried until there were no tears left.
That night, I opened the wooden box Grandma Rose had given me.
Inside was a letter my mother had written before she died.
I had been too upset to read it earlier.
Now I unfolded the paper carefully.
The first sentence made me cry again.
"My beautiful Jasmine, if you're reading this, you're old enough to begin choosing the life you want."
I pressed the paper against my chest.
For the first time, I understood something.
Denise had spent years trying to decide my future.
May you like
But my mother had spent her final days giving me permission to choose it myself.
And I wasn't going to let anyone take that away again.
