Chapter 8
Police officers arrived at Grandma's house that afternoon.
They checked the property.
Spoke with neighbors.
Reviewed nearby security cameras.
Grandma sat beside me on the couch.
She looked calm.
But I could feel her hand trembling.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She turned.
"For what?"
"Bringing all this here."
Her expression softened.
"Malik, sweetheart, you didn't create this danger."
I looked down.
"But Raymond knows where you live."
She squeezed my hand.
"He has known this address for decades. You didn't give it to him."
I nodded.
She leaned closer.
"Listen to me. Your mother protected the truth because she believed it mattered."
I felt tears gathering.
"And now we're protecting you."
Dad entered the living room.
He had been speaking with Detective Harris outside.
His expression was serious.
"Malik, we're staying somewhere else tonight."
I looked up.
"What about Grandma?"
"She's coming with us."
Grandma opened her mouth.
Dad raised one hand.
"Evelyn, please."
She studied him.
Then smiled faintly.
"You sound exactly like Angela when she wanted to win an argument."
Dad almost laughed.
"Then you know I'm serious."
We packed small bags.
Police advised us on the safest arrangements.
That evening, we moved to a secure hotel while investigators continued working.
I hated leaving Grandma's house.
But I understood why.
For the first time, I wasn't just worried about myself.
I was worried about everyone I loved.
The next morning, Patricia called.
Denise had agreed to provide additional information through her attorney.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Why now?"
Dad looked exhausted.
"She says Raymond threatened her."
I folded my arms.
"She's been saying that since the beginning."
"I know."
"Do you believe her?"
Dad paused.
"I believe she knows more than she's told us."
I nodded.
That was the truth.
Denise had lied so often that even genuine fear sounded suspicious.
Later that day, Patricia arranged for Dad to receive an update about Denise's statement.
I sat beside him.
She had admitted to knowingly helping Raymond enter the house.
She acknowledged planting the diamond ring in my backpack.
She also admitted trying to destroy my credibility because Raymond was afraid I would discover the camera footage.
I listened without speaking.
Then Patricia continued.
"Denise says Raymond promised her a share of the money he intended to recover from the company."
Dad closed his eyes.
"How much?"
"Two million dollars."
I stared.
Two million.
The same amount my mother had originally investigated.
It felt as though the past had been waiting all these years to repeat itself.
"Did she know he might have harmed Mom?" I asked.
Patricia shook her head.
"She says she did not."
I looked away.
I didn't know whether to believe her.
And I didn't need to decide.
That was the investigators' job.
Patricia continued.
"Denise also provided the location of a second property Raymond had used."
Dad leaned forward.
"Where?"
"Outside Macon."
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Is he there?"
"Authorities are checking."
I stared at the carpet.
Every answer seemed to create another question.
Every secret revealed another secret.
And somewhere out there was the man who had threatened my mother.
The man who had pretended to be dead.
The man who had apparently used my stepmother to enter our home.
I wanted him caught.
But more than that, I wanted him to stop controlling our lives.
That evening, Dad knocked on my hotel room door.
I was sitting beside the window.
"Can I come in?"
I nodded.
He entered carrying two paper cups.
"Hot chocolate."
I almost smiled.
"You remembered."
He handed me one.
"Your mother used to make it when you couldn't sleep."
I looked at the cup.
For a moment, I was seven again.
Sitting in the kitchen.
Swinging my legs beneath the chair.
Waiting for Mom to add extra marshmallows.
Dad sat beside me.
"Malik, I need to tell you something."
My stomach tightened.
"What now?"
He looked hurt.
But he nodded.
"I deserve that."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"I've filed for divorce."
I looked up.
"From Denise?"
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"Because of what she did?"
"Because our marriage was built on lies, and because she deliberately hurt you."
My eyes burned.
Dad reached for my hand.
"I should have seen how she treated you."
I looked away.
"She was different when you weren't home."
"I know that now."
"She told me you were tired of dealing with me."
Dad's face changed.
"What?"
I swallowed.
"She said teenagers were a burden."
He stared at me.
"Malik."
"She said you married her because you wanted a new family."
Tears filled his eyes.
"Son, that isn't true."
I tried to smile.
"I know."
But my voice broke.
Dad moved closer.
"You were never a burden."
I stared at my hands.
"Sometimes I felt like one."
He pulled me into his arms.
I hadn't cried in front of him like that since I was little.
But I couldn't stop.
Years of quiet hurt came pouring out.
Every cold dinner.
Every ignored complaint.
Every time Denise called me difficult.
Every time Dad believed her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
I held onto him.
"I just wanted you to believe me."
"I know."
We stayed that way for a long time.
Then he pulled back.
"From now on, when you tell me something is wrong, I'll listen."
I nodded.
For the first time, I believed he meant it.
The following afternoon, Detective Harris called.
Raymond had been located at the property outside Macon.
He had attempted to leave before officers arrived.
But authorities detained him.
My father sat down when he heard.
I stood beside him.
"Is it over?"
Detective Harris answered carefully.
"Raymond is in custody. The investigation is continuing."
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in days, I could breathe.
Then the detective continued.
"There's something else you should know."
My stomach tightened again.
"What?"
"Investigators recovered additional records from the property."
Dad looked up.
"About the company?"
"Yes. But also about Angela's accident."
The room went silent.
Detective Harris paused.
"We've identified a witness who says Raymond asked someone to interfere with Angela's vehicle before she died."
My father gripped the table.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
The detective continued.
"We still need to corroborate the account and determine exactly what happened."
I couldn't speak.
For years, my mother's death had been called an accident.
Now there was a witness suggesting someone may have deliberately caused it.
Dad looked at me.
His eyes were filled with tears.
May you like
And in that moment, I understood that finding Raymond was only the beginning.
The hardest truth was still waiting.
