Chapter 2
The Papers My Son Was Forced to Sign
I had never seen Malik look so frightened.
Not when he broke his arm falling off his bicycle.
Not when his mother died.
Not even when he woke from nightmares during the first year after we lost her.
But now, sitting at our dining table, my son looked terrified of speaking.
I crouched beside him.
"Malik, listen to me."
He wiped his cheeks.
"Yes, Dad?"
"No piece of paper can stop me from loving you."
His lips trembled.
I squeezed his hands.
"And nobody can make me stop being your father."
He began crying again.
Across the room, Denise grabbed her purse.
"I refuse to participate in this ridiculous interrogation."
My mother immediately stepped toward her.
"You're not changing the subject."
Denise glared.
"Move, Evelyn."
Mom didn't move.
I stood.
"Denise, you can leave. But I need to know where you took my son."
She laughed nervously.
"You're behaving like I kidnapped him."
I looked directly at her.
"Did you have my permission to take him to a lawyer?"
She hesitated.
"No."
"Then answer the question."
Her expression hardened.
"It was a routine family matter."
I stared.
"What family matter?"
She looked toward Malik.
He immediately lowered his head.
My stomach twisted.
"Stop looking at him."
Denise crossed her arms.
"Marcus, you're making a scene."
I almost laughed.
"A scene?"
I pointed toward my son's stained hoodie.
"You threw food at a child."
I took a breath.
"Now I discover you've been taking him to legal appointments behind my back."
My voice became cold.
"You don't get to tell me I'm making a scene."
Denise looked away.
Then my mother spoke.
"Ask her about the custody declaration."
I froze.
"The what?"
Mom swallowed.
"The document she made Malik sign."
My heart began pounding.
I turned toward my son.
"Malik, what did the paper say?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Didn't you read it?"
His face crumpled.
"She wouldn't let me."
I closed my eyes.
My son continued.
"The lady at the office asked if I understood."
I felt sick.
"What did you say?"
"I said no."
He started crying harder.
"Then Denise squeezed my arm under the table."
My jaw tightened.
Malik looked down.
"She told me to say yes."
I took a slow breath.
Everything inside me wanted to explode.
But I couldn't frighten him more.
I placed my hand against his cheek.
"You did nothing wrong."
He nodded weakly.
I turned toward Denise.
"Which law office?"
She didn't answer.
"Denise."
She sighed.
"Palmer and Associates."
I recognized the name.
A small legal office downtown.
Its managing attorney, Gerald Palmer, had once handled paperwork for my construction business.
I'd stopped using him after discovering billing irregularities.
My stomach tightened.
"Gerald Palmer?"
Denise nodded.
I stared at her.
"Why him?"
She shrugged.
"Because he knows our family."
I shook my head.
"No. He knows me."
Mom stepped forward.
"Marcus, there's more."
I looked at her.
She hesitated.
Then said, "Yesterday afternoon, Malik called me."
My heart tightened.
"He called you?"
She nodded.
"He was crying."
I looked toward my son.
He stared at the floor.
Mom continued.
"He said Denise told him you were planning to send him away."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
"What?"
Malik began sobbing.
I knelt immediately.
"Son, I never said that."
He looked at me.
"She said you were tired of me."
My chest tightened painfully.
I shook my head.
"No."
His voice broke.
"She said you wanted a new family."
I felt tears streaming down my face.
I pulled him into my arms.
"No, baby."
He clung to me.
"She said you didn't want me anymore."
I held him tighter.
"Listen carefully."
I pulled back so he could see my eyes.
"You are my family."
He began crying harder.
"You have always been my family."
I touched his cheek.
"And nothing will ever change that."
Behind us, Denise scoffed.
"You're being dramatic."
I turned.
And for the first time in my marriage, I felt genuine disgust.
"Get out."
Her eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
"Leave this house."
She laughed.
"Marcus, we're married."
I nodded.
"And tonight, you need to stay somewhere else."
She stared.
"You can't throw me out."
I took a breath.
"I'm asking you to leave voluntarily while I speak to an attorney."
My mother stood beside Malik.
Denise looked between us.
Then she grabbed her purse.
"Fine."
She marched toward the door.
But before leaving, she turned toward Malik.
"This is what happens when you tell lies."
My son flinched.
I stepped forward.
"Don't speak to him."
Denise froze.
I looked her directly in the eyes.
"Not another word."
She slammed the door.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Malik whispered, "Dad?"
I turned.
He looked terrified.
"Are you mad at me?"
My heart broke all over again.
I crossed the room.
"No, son."
I hugged him.
"I'm proud of you for telling me."
He held me tightly.
Mom quietly began cleaning the spilled food.
I stopped her.
"Leave it."
She looked up.
I swallowed.
"I need to remember what happened here."
She nodded.
Then I took Malik upstairs.
I helped him find clean clothes.
He changed while I waited outside his bedroom.
When he opened the door, he looked exhausted.
"Can Grandma stay tonight?"
I nodded.
"Absolutely."
He hesitated.
"And can I sleep with the light on?"
My throat tightened.
"Of course."
I tucked him into bed.
Then sat beside him.
For the first time in months, he reached for my hand without hesitation.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Are you going to send me away?"
I felt tears gathering.
"Never."
He studied my face.
"Promise?"
I leaned forward.
"On everything I love."
He nodded.
Then closed his eyes.
I stayed until he fell asleep.
Downstairs, Mom was waiting.
She held a small envelope.
"Marcus, I didn't tell you everything."
My stomach tightened.
"What else?"
She handed it to me.
Inside was a photograph of a document.
Across the top were the words:
PETITION FOR MODIFICATION OF GUARDIANSHIP AND CUSTODY.
My hands began shaking.
I read the next paragraph.
It claimed I was emotionally unstable.
Financially irresponsible.
And incapable of caring for my son.
I looked at Mom.
"What is this?"
Her eyes filled.
"Denise was trying to have Malik removed from your care."
I stared at the document.
Then I saw the proposed guardian's name.
DENISE CARTER-WILLIAMS.
My knees weakened.
Because my wife hadn't simply been mistreating my son.
May you like
She had been preparing to take him away from me.
And the worst part was that she'd convinced him I was the one who wanted it.
