Chapter 4
I didn’t answer Vanessa.
Renee photographed the messages and wrote down the time.
“Threats can make you rush,” she said. “We won’t rush.”
Upstairs, Nia laughed at something my father said.
That sound helped me breathe.
I called Daniel.
He answered on the fifth ring.
“What does Vanessa think you know?”
He went silent.
“Talk to me.”
“I can’t do this on the phone.”
“You can start.”
“She’s angry.”
“I noticed.”
“Marcus, I messed up.”
The words were so small that I almost missed them.
“Then tell the truth.”
“I need somewhere she won’t find me.”
I looked at Renee.
She shook her head when I started to offer my house.
Instead, she gave me the address of her office.
“One hour,” I told him. “And I’m bringing my lawyer.”
I told Dad where I was going.
He wanted to come.
“I need you here with Nia.”
He nodded, though it clearly cost him.
Daniel arrived at Renee’s office carrying a canvas bag.
He looked exhausted.
When he sat down, he placed his phone on the table.
“I didn’t take the money myself.”
Renee held up a hand.
“Before we discuss anything, you should understand I represent Marcus. You need your own attorney.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Are you going to help me?”
“I’ll help you find counsel. I won’t help you hide.”
His eyes reddened.
“I know.”
He stepped into the corridor and made a call. Renee gave him time.
When he returned, he said an attorney had advised him to preserve his records and avoid making detailed statements until they met.
But there was something he wanted me to know immediately.
“I was going to take Nia to the house,” he said. “Vanessa told me you agreed.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d say no.”
That answer was finally honest.
It made me angrier than another excuse would have.
Daniel unzipped his bag and took out a little metal tin.
Nia’s savings tin.
Blue, with silver stars.
I had helped her count the money in it on her birthday.
“Vanessa left this at the house.”
I took it.
It was empty except for two pennies.
Daniel wiped his mouth.
“I told her taking it was wrong.”
“After she took it?”
He nodded.
“Did you give it back?”
“No.”
I leaned away from him.
“You watched my child lose her money and said nothing to me.”
“I thought I could replace it.”
“With what?”
He didn’t answer.
Renee wrote a note.
Daniel stared at the tin.
“She told me she needed cash without a record.”
My stomach turned.
I wanted to demand everything.
Instead, I let Renee end the meeting after arranging contact with his attorney.
On the drive home, Daniel called again.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“The thing she threatened you with. It’s about Mom.”
I pulled into a parking space.
“What about Mom?”
“She says you stole my inheritance.”
I stared through the windshield.
“Do you believe that?”
“I did.”
For years, I had managed our mother’s estate through sleepless nights, medical bills, and a business nearly crushed by debt.
Daniel had been nineteen.
I had protected him from the details because I thought he deserved time to grieve.
Later, I had kept protecting him because I didn’t know how to stop.
“What did she show you?”
“A statement. Your account. A lot of money.”
“A company account?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask anyone besides her?”
“No.”
There it was again.
My brother had let another person tell him who I was.
“She said you kept me dependent,” he whispered.
I looked at the tin on the passenger seat.
“You could have asked me.”
“I know.”
“No, Daniel. You don’t know what that cost.”
At home, Nia was asleep.
My father sat at the kitchen table.
I placed the tin in front of him.
His face changed.
“She took it?”
“Yes.”
He reached toward it, then withdrew his hand.
“I should have said something sooner.”
I sat opposite him.
“About what?”
“The way Vanessa spoke to you. The way Nia got quiet around her.”
I swallowed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I did once. You said your marriage was under stress. I believed you wanted privacy.”
I remembered.
A backyard birthday party.
Vanessa criticizing the food I had prepared.
Dad asking whether I was all right.
Me brushing it off.
We had both mistaken my embarrassment for a request to stay away.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Arthur shook his head.
“We can regret things without leaving you alone in this one.”
He pushed a folder toward me.
Old estate documents.
My mother’s letters.
The original trust summary.
“I kept copies,” he said. “Your mother wanted both her boys protected.”
I opened the folder.
On top was a letter addressed to me.
Marcus, don’t confuse carrying everyone with loving them.
I had read that line years earlier.
Back then, I thought I understood it.
Now my phone rang.
Mr. Bennett.
“The audit team found another authorization.”
“Another transfer?”
“No. A guarantee.”
I sat straighter.
“Guaranteed by whom?”
“You.”
“I never signed one.”
“I know.”
May you like
He paused.
“This one puts your house at risk.”
