Chapter 3
Marcus didn’t move.
His eyes stayed fixed on Maya’s letter.
I looked at him.
“What money?”
Maya’s face tightened.
“I wasn’t supposed to say.”
I turned toward her.
“You’re not in trouble.”
Marcus sat back against the cabinet.
His skin had gone pale.
I knew his brother Darius had helped us after Marcus’s accident.
At least, that was what I thought.
But I had never heard anything about his mother taking money.
“Marcus.”
He looked at me.
“What did your mother take?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Nia…”
“What did she take?”
Maya stood.
“I’m going upstairs.”
I almost stopped her.
Then I realized this conversation did not belong in front of her.
Marcus nodded.
“Go change out of your school clothes, sweetheart.”
Maya hesitated.
“Are you going to fight?”
The question broke something inside me.
I stood and kissed her forehead.
“No.”
She looked at Marcus.
He nodded.
“We’re going to talk.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Maya picked up her backpack and walked upstairs.
We waited until we heard her bedroom door close.
Then I turned around.
“What happened?”
Marcus stared at the floor.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
My anger started returning, but this time I held it.
I remembered his words.
Fear didn’t give us permission to hurt each other.
So I sat across from him.
“Tell me.”
Marcus breathed in slowly.
“After my accident, my mom offered to handle some of the insurance paperwork.”
“I remember.”
I did.
Marcus had broken his leg at a construction site.
For six weeks, he could barely move without help.
His mother, Lorraine, had shown up every day.
She cooked.
She drove him to appointments.
She brought groceries.
I had been grateful.
“Darius called me two months ago,” Marcus said.
“And?”
“He found out there had been a settlement.”
I stared at him.
“What settlement?”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“The company’s insurance paid twenty-two thousand dollars.”
For a second, I thought I had misheard.
“Twenty-two thousand?”
“Yes.”
My ears started ringing.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
I stood.
“Eight months?”
Marcus rose too.
“Nia—”
“We have been drowning for eight months.”
“I know.”
“We nearly had our electricity shut off.”
“I know.”
“I took extra night shifts!”
“I know.”
I clenched my hands.
“Where is the money?”
He looked down.
“My mother transferred most of it.”
“What does ‘most’ mean?”
“Almost seventeen thousand.”
“To where?”
“Her account.”
I stared at him.
“She stole seventeen thousand dollars from us?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No.”
My voice sharpened.
“No, Marcus. That sentence is not complicated.”
“She says it wasn’t stealing.”
I laughed once.
“Of course she does.”
“She claims Dad left debts before he died.”
“What does that have to do with your settlement?”
“She said some of them were tied to the family business.”
“Your father’s landscaping company?”
Marcus nodded.
I knew that business had collapsed years ago.
Marcus and Darius had both walked away from it.
Their father had died with more debts than assets.
“So she used our money to cover his debts?”
“That’s what she told me.”
“Without asking?”
“Yes.”
“How did she even have access?”
Marcus’s silence gave me the answer.
I stepped backward.
“You signed something.”
“I gave her limited power of attorney while I was recovering.”
My stomach turned.
“You never told me.”
“I thought it was just for medical paperwork.”
“Then when you found out?”
“I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She begged me not to tell you.”
I stared at him.
“You agreed?”
“At first.”
“Why?”
“Because she said she was going to pay it back.”
I nearly shouted.
Instead I lowered my voice.
“When?”
“She said she was selling land in Georgia.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“And you still didn’t tell me.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I was ashamed.”
“Of what?”
“Of letting it happen.”
I looked at the overdue notice on the counter.
“No, Marcus.”
He opened his eyes.
“You weren’t protecting me from your mistake.”
I pointed toward the ceiling.
“You were letting our daughter think she needed to sell her toys because you were protecting your mother.”
His face collapsed.
“I know.”
“No. I don’t think you did.”
“Nia.”
“She wrote a letter saying she would sell her stuffed rabbit.”
“I saw it.”
“She sleeps with that rabbit every night.”
“I know!”
His voice cracked.
Silence followed.
Marcus sat down hard.
“I know.”
For the first time, I saw something beyond shame.
Fear.
“What else?”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“There’s more.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I had lived with Marcus for eleven years.
I knew his face.
“There is something else.”
He looked away.
My stomach tightened.
“Marcus.”
“Darius thinks the money didn’t go toward Dad’s debts.”
I sat very still.
“Where does he think it went?”
Marcus hesitated.
“My mom’s church.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“She made a large donation.”
“How large?”
“I don’t know.”
“Marcus.”
“He saw paperwork for twelve thousand.”
I stood again.
“She donated our settlement money?”
“We don’t know if it was the same money.”
“It came from her account after seventeen thousand dollars from us went into her account.”
“I know how it looks.”
“It looks like theft.”
Marcus didn’t argue.
I grabbed my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Lorraine.”
He stood.
“Nia, wait.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to handle this.”
I stared at him.
“You had two months.”
His face tightened.
“You’re right.”
That surprised me.
He stepped away.
“You’re right.”
I lowered the phone.
“What are you going to do?”
Marcus looked upstairs.
Then at the jar.
Then at the bills.
“I’m calling Darius.”
Twenty minutes later, his brother arrived.
Darius looked nervous the moment he entered.
He was younger than Marcus by four years, tall and usually easygoing.
Not that day.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.
I folded my arms.
“For what?”
“For not telling you myself.”
Marcus gestured toward the kitchen table.
We sat.
Darius placed a folder in front of me.
Inside were bank statements.
Transfers.
Dates.
Numbers.
I saw Marcus’s name.
Then Lorraine’s.
Seventeen thousand two hundred dollars.
My hands went cold.
“This is real?”
Darius nodded.
“I found copies in Mom’s office.”
“Why were you looking?”
His expression changed.
“Because she asked me for money.”
“How much?”
“Ten thousand.”
“For what?”
“She said she was behind on taxes.”
Marcus frowned.
“She never told me that.”
“She didn’t want you to know.”
I almost laughed at the pattern.
“What happened?”
“I told her I didn’t have ten thousand.”
Darius looked down.
“Then she asked if I could borrow against my house.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“She asked you to put your house up?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That’s what made me suspicious.”
Darius slid another paper toward us.
It wasn’t a church receipt.
It was a loan statement.
I looked at the amount.
Thirty-four thousand dollars.
The borrower name was Lorraine Ellis.
But the address on the loan belonged to someone else.
“Who is Calvin Reed?” I asked.
Marcus froze.
Darius closed his eyes.
I looked between them.
“Who?”
Marcus whispered,
“My mother’s boyfriend.”
I stared at him.
“You told me she wasn’t seeing anyone.”
“She said they broke up.”
Darius shook his head.
“They didn’t.”
My heart began pounding.
“What did she do with our money?”
Darius pulled one final document from the folder.
It was a property record.
A small house.
Purchased seven months earlier.
Owner: Calvin Reed.
Down payment: fifteen thousand dollars.
I looked at Marcus.
Then back at the page.
The room seemed to tilt.
Our daughter had sold books because she thought we might lose our home.
Marcus and I had fought over groceries.
I had worked overnight shifts.
And Lorraine had apparently used almost exactly the amount missing from our settlement to help buy her boyfriend a house.
Marcus stood so quickly his chair hit the floor.
“I’m going over there.”
Darius grabbed his arm.
“Don’t.”
“Let go.”
“Marcus.”
“I said let go.”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
Marcus looked at me.
His breathing was hard.
“We promised Maya.”
He stopped.
“We promised we wouldn’t fight.”
His shoulders dropped.
I placed the papers back into the folder.
“We do this the right way.”
Darius nodded.
“What does that mean?”
“It means nobody warns Lorraine.”
Marcus stared at me.
May you like
I closed the folder.
“It means tomorrow morning we talk to a lawyer.”
