Chapter 6
The next morning, I woke to someone pounding on my front door.
Not knocking.
Pounding.
“Evelyn! Open this door!”
Tasha.
I glanced at the clock.
6:42 a.m.
Malcolm came out of the living room.
He had slept badly.
Dark circles surrounded his eyes.
“I'll handle it.”
I stopped him.
“Remember what Claire said.”
He nodded.
Then he opened the door.
Tasha pushed inside.
“Where's Isaiah?”
“Sleeping,” Malcolm answered.
“Get him.”
“No.”
She stared.
“Excuse me?”
“We need to talk privately.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
“Of course your mother is involved.”
I stayed quiet.
Tasha stepped closer to Malcolm.
“You've humiliated me.”
“How?”
“Calling banks. Talking to lawyers. Asking questions about my family.”
“I'm asking about Isaiah's money.”
“I already told you I handled the household expenses.”
“Then explain the eighteen-thousand-dollar transfer.”
Her expression flickered.
I saw it.
Fear.
Then anger.
“You don't understand how expensive things have become.”
“That account wasn't for household expenses.”
“I've spent years caring for your son.”
“Then why was he going to school hungry?”
Tasha stepped backward.
“He told you that?”
Malcolm's jaw tightened.
“His teacher told me.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Children exaggerate.”
“Isaiah doesn't.”
“Now you're turning him against me?”
“No,” Malcolm said. “I'm finally listening to him.”
Tasha looked at me.
“This is your fault.”
I shook my head.
“No. This is about what happened in your house.”
She moved closer.
“You think you can take my family away?”
“I want every child in that house treated fairly.”
“You never cared about Jordan and Ava.”
“I care about them enough to know they shouldn't be involved in any of this.”
For a moment, she looked confused.
Then her face hardened again.
“I'm taking Isaiah home.”
Malcolm stepped between us.
“No.”
“I'm his legal stepmother!”
“And I'm his father.”
She reached for her phone.
“Fine. I'll call the police.”
“Go ahead.”
Something in his calmness unsettled her.
She lowered the phone.
“You'll regret this.”
Then she turned and stormed outside.
Malcolm closed the door.
His hands were shaking.
But he hadn't shouted.
And for once, he hadn't backed down.
I was proud of him.
Still, I knew the worst was not over.
Later that morning, Claire called.
She told us Tasha's visit should be documented.
She also recommended that Malcolm seek temporary legal orders addressing the children's living arrangements and access to shared finances.
Malcolm agreed.
But he had another concern.
“Jordan and Ava,” he said. “They're still with Tasha.”
I nodded.
Those children hadn't stolen anything.
They were eleven and thirteen.
They deserved stability too.
When Malcolm married Tasha, he had become their stepfather.
They called him Dad.
And whatever happened to the marriage, they would still be children who needed reassurance.
“I need to make sure they're okay,” he said.
“Then do it carefully.”
He contacted their maternal aunt, Renee.
Renee had often watched the children when Tasha worked late.
She agreed to meet us.
That afternoon, we sat in a quiet café.
Renee looked exhausted.
“I knew something wasn't right,” she said.
Malcolm leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
“Tasha's been spending money she doesn't have.”
“On what?”
“Clothes. Vacations. A car lease. Things for the house.”
I frowned.
“She always said Malcolm paid for everything.”
Renee shook her head.
“Not everything.”
She lowered her voice.
“Curtis has been borrowing money from her.”
Malcolm went still.
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“For what?”
“His business.”
I remembered the silver SUV.
“What kind of business?”
“He buys and sells used cars. At least that's what he says.”
Malcolm pulled out his phone.
“Do you know the company name?”
“C&L Auto Group.”
I wrote it down.
Renee hesitated.
“There's something else.”
We waited.
“Tasha told me she was going to come into a large amount of money soon.”
My skin prickled.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What exactly did she say?”
Renee looked at Malcolm.
“She said Nicole's son had money sitting around that nobody was using.”
My son stared at her.
“She said that?”
Renee nodded.
“I asked what she meant. She told me to mind my own business.”
I felt sick.
This wasn't simply careless spending.
Someone had been talking about my grandson's inheritance as though it belonged to them.
Renee took a deep breath.
“I don't want Jordan and Ava hurt.”
“Neither do I,” Malcolm answered.
She studied his face.
“Do you still love them?”
He looked surprised.
“Of course.”
“Then don't disappear from their lives because of their mother.”
His eyes filled.
“I won't.”
That evening, Malcolm sat with Isaiah at my kitchen table.
They were building a small model airplane.
I watched them quietly.
For years, Malcolm had believed he was doing the right thing by working far away.
Providing.
Sending money.
Trusting his wife to handle the rest.
Now he was learning that children needed more than deposits in a bank account.
They needed attention.
Protection.
Presence.
Then my phone rang.
It was Claire.
“Evelyn, we found something important.”
I stepped into the hallway.
“What?”
“The receiving account for one of Isaiah's transfers appears to be connected to a company.”
“Which company?”
“C&L Auto Group.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Curtis's business.”
“Yes. Malcolm needs to share this information with the bank investigators.”
I closed my eyes.
“Does this mean Tasha and Curtis were working together?”
“It suggests a possible connection. We still need evidence of who initiated the transfers and why.”
Then Claire paused.
“There's another development.”
I gripped the phone.
“What development?”
“Curtis has contacted Malcolm's employer.”
I froze.
“He's accused your son of stealing company equipment.”
I looked toward the kitchen.
Malcolm was helping Isaiah fit the wings onto his airplane.
May you like
My grandson was smiling.
For the first time, I understood just how far someone might go to stop us from finding the truth.
