Chapter 7
I sat across from Jordan in Thomas Reed's conference room.
He looked nervous.
His hands kept moving beneath the table.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Thomas gently asked him to explain.
Jordan took a breath.
"My mom opened an account in my name when I turned eighteen."
I nodded.
"Okay."
"She said it would help me build credit."
Thomas listened.
"Did you have access to the account?"
Jordan shook his head.
"Not really."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"She kept the login information."
My stomach tightened.
Jordan continued.
"Every few weeks, she'd ask me to confirm a security code that came to my phone."
Thomas leaned forward.
"Did you know what the account was being used for?"
"No."
Jordan looked down.
"I thought she was helping me."
I felt an unexpected wave of sadness.
This young man had been living under his mother's control longer than I'd realized.
Thomas asked whether Jordan had recently obtained account statements.
He nodded.
Then handed over a folder.
The records showed deposits and transfers.
Some came from Denise's personal accounts.
Others came from sources I didn't recognize.
Thomas examined them carefully.
"Marcus, do you recognize this company?"
He pointed to a name.
Carter Construction Services.
I stared.
That was my company.
"What?"
I leaned closer.
Several payments had been transferred from a business account into Jordan's account.
My stomach dropped.
"I never authorized these."
Thomas's expression became serious.
"We need to verify the records."
I looked at Jordan.
He seemed frightened.
"Marcus, I didn't know."
I believed him.
But I needed answers.
"How did your mother get access to company money?"
Jordan shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then he hesitated.
"Maybe through the office."
I frowned.
"What office?"
"Your office."
My heart began pounding.
Jordan explained that Denise had occasionally visited my workplace when I was traveling.
She'd told employees she was dropping off documents.
Sometimes she'd used my private office to make calls.
I remembered.
I'd given her temporary access during our marriage.
But I'd never authorized her to move company funds.
Thomas made several notes.
"We need an independent forensic accountant."
I nodded.
"Immediately."
Over the next two weeks, an accountant reviewed the transactions.
The findings were troubling.
Several payments appeared to have been approved using compromised credentials.
Some money had gone through Jordan's account.
Other funds moved into accounts Denise controlled.
Not every transaction was unauthorized.
But enough were suspicious to warrant further investigation.
I sat in Thomas's office listening.
My hands were cold.
"How much?"
The accountant gave me a preliminary estimate.
Nearly sixty thousand dollars required explanation.
I stared at him.
Sixty thousand.
Money that belonged to my company.
Money intended for payroll.
Equipment.
Business expenses.
My employees depended on that money.
I felt sick.
Thomas advised me to preserve the evidence and work with investigators.
I agreed.
But what hurt most wasn't the amount.
It was the betrayal.
Denise had stood beside me at company celebrations.
She'd thanked my employees for their hard work.
She'd told everyone how proud she was of my success.
And now I was looking at records suggesting she'd been moving money behind my back.
I thought about Lily.
About the way Denise treated my daughter like a burden.
Then I thought about how freely she spent on Jordan.
The expensive gifts.
The constant cash.
The new electronics.
Had some of that money come from my business?
I didn't know.
But I needed to find out.
When I told Jordan about the investigation, he began crying.
"I thought she was helping me."
I sat beside him.
"Jordan, you need to stop assuming every adult who offers money is helping."
He nodded.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"You didn't create this situation."
He looked down.
"But I should've asked questions."
"Yes. And now you are."
He wiped his face.
Then whispered:
"Do you hate me?"
The question surprised me.
I looked at him.
"No."
His eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Jordan, you made mistakes. But you're trying to take responsibility."
He nodded.
"I want to fix it."
I leaned back.
"Then start by building your own life."
He looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Get a job. Finish school if that's what you want. Learn how to manage your own money."
He swallowed.
"And stop letting anyone use your name for things you don't understand."
Jordan nodded slowly.
"I can do that."
I smiled faintly.
"I believe you can."
Over the next several months, Jordan began changing.
He found a job at an auto parts store.
He enrolled in two community college classes.
He opened a bank account that only he controlled.
And he started meeting with a financial counselor.
He didn't transform overnight.
He still struggled with responsibility.
Still made excuses occasionally.
Still needed reminders.
But he was trying.
One afternoon, he stopped by my house.
Lily was playing in the backyard with Angela.
Jordan stood near the patio door.
"Can I say hi?"
I studied him.
"Let me ask Lily."
I went outside.
My daughter looked up.
"Jordan's here."
Her expression changed.
I knelt beside her.
"Would you like to say hello?"
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
I brought Jordan outside.
He stayed several feet away.
"Hey, Lily."
She held her stuffed rabbit.
"Hi."
He smiled nervously.
"I brought you something."
He held out a small coloring book.
Lily looked at me.
I nodded.
"If you want it."
She stepped forward and accepted it.
"Thank you."
Jordan smiled.
"You're welcome."
Then he took a breath.
"Lily, I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner."
My daughter looked down.
Jordan continued.
"I saw things that weren't fair, and I should've told Marcus."
I felt my throat tighten.
Lily whispered:
"It's okay."
Jordan shook his head gently.
"I still should've helped."
She hugged her rabbit.
Then asked:
"Do you want to color?"
Jordan stared.
For a moment, I thought he might cry.
Then he smiled.
"Yeah."
They sat at the patio table.
I watched from the doorway.
For the first time, I saw the possibility of something I'd once hoped for.
Not a perfect blended family.
But two young people who might eventually learn to care about each other without fear.
Then my phone rang.
Thomas.
I answered.
"Marcus?"
His voice was serious.
"The financial investigation has uncovered evidence of additional unauthorized transactions."
My stomach tightened.
"How serious?"
He took a breath.
"Serious enough that law enforcement is now involved."
I looked toward Jordan and Lily.
May you like
Then Thomas said:
"Denise has been asked to appear for questioning."
