Chapter 4
Claire stared at the officer.
For a moment, she looked genuinely confused.
Then her face changed.
"What do you mean, I've been contacted?"
The officer kept his voice calm.
"Mrs. Bennett, we're asking whether you've received any messages from someone using the name Terrence Wallace."
Claire shook her head.
"No."
"Perhaps through a social media account?"
She hesitated.
I noticed it immediately.
"Claire?"
She looked at me.
"I don't know."
I felt my chest tighten.
"What does that mean?"
She rubbed her forehead.
"A few weeks ago, someone messaged me about Maya."
My stomach dropped.
"What did they say?"
Claire looked toward the staircase.
"That she was involved in something dangerous."
I stared at her.
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I thought it was spam."
The officer asked to see the message.
Claire opened her phone.
After searching for several minutes, she found it.
The sender used a private social media account.
The message was short.
"Your daughter is taking money that doesn't belong to her. Ask her before things get worse."
I felt sick.
"Claire, when did you receive this?"
She whispered, "Three weeks ago."
Three weeks.
Three weeks during which we could have asked questions.
Three weeks during which Maya continued hiding what was happening.
Three weeks during which Malik's necklace disappeared from Nia's keepsake box.
And Claire had said nothing.
"Why didn't you ask Maya about it?"
Claire looked ashamed.
"I did."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"I asked if someone online was bothering her."
"And?"
"She said no."
I shook my head.
"So you believed her?"
"Marcus, she's my daughter."
"That's exactly why you should have followed up."
Her eyes filled.
"Don't make me feel like I caused this."
"I'm not saying you caused it. I'm saying we need to stop hiding things because they're uncomfortable."
She looked away.
The officer explained that investigators would compare the messages and determine whether they were connected to the same person.
He also encouraged us to protect Maya's accounts and avoid responding to threats.
After the officers left, I sat alone in my office.
I needed to think.
The house was quiet.
Malik remained upstairs.
Nia was in her bedroom.
Claire was comforting Maya.
And I felt as though my family had split into separate islands.
Nobody trusted anybody.
My phone vibrated.
A message from my older brother, Raymond.
"Marcus, call me when you can."
I stared at it.
Raymond was fifty-six.
He had always been the practical one in our family.
After Denise died, he helped me keep my business running while I learned how to raise two grieving children alone.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
"Little brother, what's going on?"
I closed my eyes.
"It's bad."
"How bad?"
I told him everything.
The accusation.
The camera.
The stolen necklace.
The online scheme.
The threatening photograph.
Raymond remained silent until I finished.
Then he said, "First, you need to protect Malik."
I rubbed my face.
"I know."
"No, Marcus. Really protect him."
"I believe him."
"That's not enough."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"He was falsely accused of something that could follow him for years. He needs to know you're not going to sacrifice him to keep the peace."
I stared at the wall.
Raymond was right.
I had been so focused on uncovering the truth that I hadn't fully considered what Malik was experiencing.
My son had lost his mother.
Now he was afraid of losing his father.
And someone had used our blended family against him.
Raymond continued.
"Where is he?"
"Upstairs."
"Go talk to him."
I nodded.
"You're right."
After hanging up, I went to Malik's bedroom.
His door was closed.
I knocked softly.
"Son?"
No answer.
"Can we talk?"
A pause.
Then his voice came through.
"Yeah."
I opened the door.
Malik sat on the edge of his bed.
His black hoodie lay beside him.
He stared at the floor.
I sat in the chair across from him.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I said, "I'm sorry."
He looked up.
"For what?"
"For letting things get to the point where you felt you had to beg me to believe you."
His face tightened.
"Dad, I thought you were going to throw me out."
The words hit me harder than anything else that day.
I shook my head.
"I would never make a decision like that without understanding what happened."
He stared at me.
"Claire already decided."
"I know."
"And you didn't stop her right away."
I closed my eyes.
He was right.
I had tried to control the argument.
But I hadn't clearly told Claire that she couldn't order my son out of his own home.
"I'm sorry," I said again.
Malik's eyes filled.
"Mom would've believed me."
My throat closed.
Denise.
Even after eight years, hearing her name in moments like this still hurt.
I nodded slowly.
"She would've listened."
He wiped his cheeks angrily.
"I don't want to live somewhere people can just say anything about me."
I leaned forward.
"Then we have to change what makes this house unsafe."
He looked at me.
"How?"
"First, no one is going to pressure you to forgive Maya."
He blinked.
"Really?"
"Really."
"And Claire?"
"She needs to take responsibility for what she said."
He looked down.
"I don't know if I can ever trust her."
I nodded.
"You don't have to decide that tonight."
He swallowed.
"Can I stay with Uncle Raymond for a while?"
The question broke my heart.
But I understood.
"If that's what you need, we'll arrange it."
He looked relieved.
And that hurt too.
My son felt safer leaving his own home.
Later that night, I spoke with Claire.
She was sitting at the kitchen table.
Her eyes were swollen.
I sat across from her.
"Malik wants to stay with Raymond temporarily."
Claire looked up.
"He's leaving?"
"Yes."
She seemed shocked.
"Marcus, we can work through this."
I shook my head.
"Not by pretending nothing happened."
She looked down.
"I was protecting Maya."
"I understand why you reacted strongly to her accusation. But after the recording, we need to face what she did."
Claire began crying.
"I know."
"She didn't just lie. She deliberately threatened Malik."
"I know."
"And you told him to leave before giving him a chance to speak."
Claire covered her face.
"I'm ashamed."
I reached across the table.
"Then show him that you understand."
She nodded.
But before I could say anything else, Nia entered the kitchen.
She looked pale.
"Dad, I found something."
I turned.
"What?"
She held up her phone.
"The camera saved another recording from last week."
My stomach tightened.
"What does it show?"
Nia swallowed.
"Claire."
My wife looked up sharply.
"Me?"
Nia nodded.
"Talking to Maya."
I stared at my daughter.
"About what?"
Nia looked at Claire.
Then she said something that made the entire room go silent.
"About Malik moving out."
May you like
I slowly turned toward my wife.
And suddenly, I wasn't sure how much of today's nightmare Claire had known before the accusation began.
