Chapter 2
I read the final bank statement three times because my mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing.
$18,500.
Transferred from Isaiah's savings account.
The destination was an unfamiliar account ending in 4421.
I turned to the previous page.
Another withdrawal.
$12,000.
Then another.
$7,500.
Each transaction was dated within the past six months.
I spread the pages across Malcolm's desk and reached for my phone.
“Malcolm, I found the statements.”
He answered immediately.
“How bad is it?”
“Son, when did you last check Isaiah's account?”
“Before I took the North Dakota job.”
“When was that?”
“Eight months ago.”
I swallowed.
“Then we have a serious problem.”
He went quiet.
I began reading the amounts.
By the time I reached the final transfer, I heard him breathing heavily.
“That can't be right.”
“I wish it weren't.”
“Nicole's insurance money was supposed to stay there.”
I looked at the statement again.
“Insurance money?”
“She left Isaiah fifty thousand dollars when she died. I've been adding to it every month.”
“Who can access the account?”
“Me. As his custodian.”
“Anyone else?”
He didn't answer.
“Malcolm?”
“Tasha helps with the bills. I gave her access to my banking information when I started traveling.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did you give her authority over Isaiah's account?”
“No. Never.”
I stared at the documents.
“Then somebody may have used your information without permission.”
He cursed under his breath.
“I'm coming home.”
“How soon?”
“Tomorrow night if I can get a flight.”
Before I could respond, headlights swept across the study window.
Tasha was back.
“Malcolm, I have to go.”
“Mom, take the papers.”
“I'm doing that now.”
“And Nicole's letter?”
I looked at the cream envelope.
“I found it.”
His voice broke.
“Keep it safe.”
I slid the documents into my handbag.
Then I heard the front door slam.
“Evelyn?”
I turned.
Tasha stood in the study doorway.
Her eyes went directly to the open drawer.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Looking for something Malcolm asked me to collect.”
She stepped forward.
“What something?”
“Nicole's letter.”
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You shouldn't be touching private things.”
“Neither should anyone else.”
She looked at my handbag.
“Did you take anything?”
“Something that belongs to Isaiah.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
Her mouth opened.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then she laughed.
It was a terrible sound.
“You really do believe I'm some kind of monster.”
“I believe my grandson has been treated unfairly.”
“Because he didn't get a few notebooks?”
“This isn't about notebooks anymore.”
Her expression went cold.
“What does that mean?”
I didn't answer.
Instead, I moved toward the door.
She blocked my way.
“You've always wanted Malcolm to leave me.”
“That isn't true.”
“You never accepted Jordan and Ava.”
“I've bought birthday presents for those children every year.”
“Because you wanted everyone to think you're generous.”
I looked directly at her.
“Move, Tasha.”
She stood there another moment.
Then she stepped aside.
I walked past her without looking back.
But as I reached the front door, I heard her say something that stayed with me.
“You have no idea what your son has done.”
I stopped.
“What did you say?”
“Ask Malcolm why he really took that job.”
Then she slammed the study door.
I drove home with my hands gripping the steering wheel.
The words kept circling in my mind.
Why he really took that job.
Malcolm had told me he needed higher pay to support three children.
I had believed him.
Why wouldn't I?
He was my son.
But lately, he had sounded exhausted.
Sometimes he missed our Sunday calls.
And when I asked about Isaiah, he always said the same thing.
“Tasha says he's fine.”
I parked outside my house and called Malcolm again.
This time I asked a different question.
“Are you in trouble financially?”
He sighed.
“Not exactly.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Mom, the mortgage payments went up. We had credit cards. Tasha said the children's expenses were getting out of control.”
“Which children?”
“All three.”
I closed my eyes.
“When did you last buy Isaiah anything yourself?”
There was a long silence.
Then he said, “I send money.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He made a sound I had never heard from him before.
A broken, ashamed breath.
“I don't remember.”
I let that answer settle between us.
Then I said, “Tomorrow, you're going to have to start being his father in person again.”
“I know.”
After we hung up, I went to my bedroom and placed Nicole's letter on the bed.
I wanted to open it.
Every part of me wanted to know what she had written.
But it wasn't mine.
It belonged to her son.
So I left the seal untouched.
Instead, I examined the bank statements.
One detail stood out.
Three transfers were marked as authorized through a mobile banking device.
The same device.
I called the bank's fraud department.
The representative explained that she could not disclose account information to me because I wasn't an authorized account holder.
But she told me something important.
Malcolm needed to report the suspicious transfers immediately.
He could also ask for a formal investigation into unauthorized access.
I wrote everything down.
Then I called my old friend Denise.
Denise had spent thirty years working as a legal assistant.
If anyone knew how to find the right lawyer, it was her.
After hearing what happened, she said, “Evelyn, don't confront Tasha about the transactions again.”
“Why?”
“Because if she's involved, she'll start destroying evidence.”
My blood ran cold.
“She already knows I found something.”
“Then move quickly.”
The next morning, I picked Isaiah up for breakfast with Malcolm's written permission.
He climbed into my car carrying his new backpack.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
He stared at his hands.
“If somebody takes money that belongs to you, does that mean they don't love you?”
I felt my heart stop.
“Why are you asking?”
He swallowed.
“Because Tasha told me my mommy didn't leave me anything.”
I looked at him.
“She said that?”
He nodded.
“She said Mommy forgot to save money for me because she was too sick.”
I could barely speak.
“Isaiah, your mother loved you very much.”
His eyes filled.
“Then why did Tasha say Mommy didn't want me to have anything?”
I pulled the car over.
May you like
And for the first time, I realized the missing money was only part of what had been stolen from my grandson.
Someone had been taking away the memory of how deeply his mother loved him.
