Chapter 3
I didn't sleep that night.
Not even for an hour.
While Maya slept in Nicole's guest room, I sat at the kitchen table surrounded by financial statements.
Every page raised another question.
Every number made my stomach tighten.
And every time I looked at Alicia's handwriting, I remembered the promise I'd made beside her hospital bed.
"Take care of our girl, Marcus."
I'd held her hand while machines hummed around us.
"I will."
"Promise me she'll never feel alone."
"I promise."
Seven years later, my daughter had been working two jobs to pay rent to a woman who was supposed to love her.
I felt as though I'd failed Alicia all over again.
At six in the morning, Nicole brought me coffee.
"You need some sleep."
"I need answers."
She sat across from me.
"You can need both."
I looked at the documents.
"How could Denise get access to money Alicia left Maya?"
Nicole studied the paperwork.
"Do you still have Alicia's estate attorney's number?"
I nodded.
"His name was Robert Hayes."
"Call him."
At eight-thirty, Robert answered.
He remembered me immediately.
"Marcus. It's been years."
"I need to ask about Maya's inheritance."
His tone changed.
"Is everything all right?"
I explained the missing money.
The documents.
The signatures.
The second account.
Robert was silent for several seconds.
Then he said, "Come to my office. Bring everything."
Two hours later, I sat across from him with Nicole beside me.
Robert examined the blue folder.
His expression grew darker with every page.
Finally, he removed his glasses.
"Marcus, did you know Alicia established a separate custodial investment account for Maya?"
I shook my head.
"I knew about the college savings account."
"There were two accounts."
My mouth went dry.
"How much?"
"At the time Alicia died, the second account held approximately seventy-five thousand dollars."
I stared at him.
Seventy-five thousand.
Money Alicia had saved through years of careful planning.
Money meant to help our daughter enter adulthood without fear.
"Where is it now?"
Robert looked at the statements.
"According to these records, a substantial portion was transferred out over the last two years."
My stomach dropped.
"Transferred where?"
"That's what we need to determine."
I leaned forward.
"Could Denise legally do that?"
Robert shook his head.
"Not simply because she's your wife. We need to confirm the account's registration and the authority shown on each transaction."
He examined the signature form.
"Did you execute this?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
Robert placed it beside a genuine document from his file.
The signatures looked similar.
Too similar.
But the forged version contained a strange flourish I never used.
Robert pointed toward it.
"We'll need original records and possibly a forensic examination."
I rubbed my face.
"Can the bank freeze the accounts?"
"We should notify the institution immediately and request safeguards. If necessary, we'll seek emergency court relief."
Nicole squeezed my arm.
I looked at Robert.
"Please do whatever you can."
He nodded.
"First, let's protect what's left."
That afternoon, Robert contacted the financial institutions and began preparing formal requests.
I also filed a report concerning the suspected unauthorized transactions.
I didn't know whether investigators would find a crime.
But I knew I couldn't treat this as an ordinary marital argument.
At four o'clock, my phone rang.
Denise.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
"Marcus."
Her voice sounded exhausted.
"Where are you?"
"With Maya."
"Can we talk?"
"Through our attorneys."
She sighed.
"You're really doing this?"
"You took money from my daughter."
"I borrowed money."
I went still.
"Borrowed?"
"Temporarily."
"Without telling me?"
"I planned to replace it."
"How much?"
Silence.
"Denise."
"I don't know the exact amount."
I looked at the statements on the table.
"Then explain the second account."
Her breathing changed.
"What second account?"
"Alicia's custodial investment account."
Another silence.
Then she whispered, "Who told you about that?"
I felt something inside me harden.
"So you knew."
"Marcus, please."
"Where is the money?"
"I can explain everything if you'll just come home."
"Tell me now."
She began crying.
"I made mistakes."
"How much?"
"I was trying to save us."
"Save us from what?"
Then she said something I hadn't expected.
"The business."
I frowned.
"What business?"
"My business."
Denise had opened a small event-planning company two years earlier.
She'd told me it was successful.
She hosted parties.
Designed decorations.
Organized weddings.
I had helped with startup costs.
"What happened?"
She sniffed.
"We lost several major clients."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you already thought I couldn't handle anything without you."
That wasn't true.
I'd supported her for years.
But I also knew arguing about our marriage wouldn't explain missing money.
"Did you use Maya's inheritance to cover business debts?"
She didn't answer.
I felt sick.
"Denise, answer me."
"Some of it."
"How much?"
She began crying harder.
"Please don't make me say it over the phone."
I closed my eyes.
"You need to speak with Robert."
"Marcus, don't involve lawyers."
"It's too late."
She suddenly stopped crying.
Her voice became sharp.
"You think you're innocent? You left me to manage everything while you traveled around the country."
"I did not authorize you to take Maya's money."
"She lived in my house. I fed her. I raised her."
"She's my daughter, Denise."
"And I'm your wife!"
I took a slow breath.
"Not for much longer."
The line went silent.
Then she whispered, "You won't get away with throwing me aside."
I ended the call.
Nicole had been standing nearby.
She looked at my face.
"What happened?"
"She admitted borrowing from the account."
Nicole sat down.
"Did she say how much?"
"No."
I stared at my phone.
"But she knew about it."
That evening, I returned briefly to the house with Nicole.
Denise had gone to stay with her sister.
Brianna and Tasha were there collecting clothes.
Both looked frightened.
I didn't blame them for their mother's actions.
"Are you girls okay?" I asked.
Brianna nodded.
Tasha looked at the floor.
Then she whispered, "Marcus, can I tell you something?"
Nicole stepped aside.
I looked at Tasha.
"Of course."
She glanced toward the front door.
"Mom made Maya clean the whole house."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
"Whenever Maya couldn't pay all the rent, she had to do extra chores."
"What kind of chores?"
"Everything."
Tasha's eyes filled with tears.
"Laundry. Bathrooms. Cooking. Cleaning up after our friends."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you say something?"
She began crying.
"Mom told us Maya needed discipline."
Brianna suddenly spoke.
"That's not all."
I turned.
She was holding a small envelope.
"Mom kept this hidden in her desk."
She handed it to me.
Inside was a deposit receipt.
The account holder wasn't Maya.
It wasn't Denise.
It was a business named D. Parker Holdings.
I frowned.
Parker?
Denise's maiden name was Parker.
But the name listed as an authorized signer was someone else.
Someone I recognized.
Her brother.
Kevin Parker.
And the receipt showed that a large transfer from Maya's investment account had reached his business account only three weeks earlier.
I looked at Brianna.
"Why are you giving me this?"
She wiped her face.
"Because Maya is my sister too."
And just like that, I realized Denise hadn't only betrayed my daughter.
She had forced her own children to live with the truth.
May you like
The question now was whether Kevin had helped her.
Or whether he was hiding something even worse.
