Chapter 7 - When The Favorite Child Became Disposable
I met Jordan outside a small diner that afternoon.
He was already sitting in his car when I arrived.
His eyes were red.
His hands were shaking.
For twenty years, I had watched my parents protect him from every consequence.
If he broke something, it was an accident.
If he failed a class, the teacher was unfair.
If he lost a job, his boss was unreasonable.
If he spent money irresponsibly, someone needed to help him.
Now, for the first time in his life, Jordan looked like someone who understood that his choices mattered.
I sat across from him in a corner booth.
He pushed a folder toward me.
"Dad told me to sign this."
I didn't touch it.
"Daniel needs to see it."
Jordan nodded.
"I brought it for him."
"What does it say?"
He swallowed.
"It says I acted independently when I transferred the company shares and obtained the loan."
My stomach tightened.
"That's not true."
"I know."
He looked down.
"It also says Dad didn't know anything about it."
I stared at him.
"He's blaming you."
Jordan wiped his face.
"He told me if I loved him, I'd take responsibility."
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I had heard those exact words before.
If you love this family, Nia, you'll help your brother.
If you love us, Nia, you'll make the sacrifice.
If you love your parents, Nia, you'll stop asking questions.
Now the same man who had taught Jordan that love meant receiving everything was teaching him that love meant taking the fall.
I looked at my brother.
"Welcome to the other side."
He flinched.
"I deserve that."
I shook my head.
"This isn't about what you deserve. It's about what you did."
Jordan nodded.
"I know."
"Did you know Dad forged my signature?"
He stared at the table.
"I knew you hadn't agreed to the transfer."
My chest tightened.
"But I thought he'd convince you afterward."
I looked away.
That admission hurt.
"You knew I would say no."
"Yes."
"And you went along with it."
His eyes filled.
"Yes."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question I had been carrying for years.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
Jordan looked up sharply.
"I don't hate you."
"Then why are you always happy when they take something from me?"
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I waited.
Finally, he whispered, "Because Dad made it sound like you thought you were better than me."
I felt a strange ache in my chest.
"Jordan, I spent most of my childhood trying to make you happy."
He nodded.
"I know."
"Do you?"
His face crumpled.
He looked down at his hands.
"When you got your scholarship, Dad said you were showing off."
I stared at him.
"When you bought your first apartment furniture, he said you were wasting money just to impress people."
I felt tears gather.
"When you started Northstar, he told me you only got lucky because Grandma gave you money."
I shook my head slowly.
"Grandma gave me ten thousand dollars. I built the rest."
"I know that now."
He wiped his eyes.
"Every time you did something good, Dad made me feel like I was falling behind."
I sat silently.
"And every time I failed, he told me it wasn't my fault."
His voice cracked.
"I believed him because it was easier."
I looked at my little brother.
For the first time, he wasn't smirking.
He wasn't demanding.
He wasn't pretending.
He was just a frightened young man confronting the mess he had helped create.
But that didn't erase what he had done.
"Jordan, understanding why you hurt me doesn't make the hurt disappear."
He nodded.
"I know."
"I can't rescue you from this."
"I'm not asking you to."
I studied his face.
"Then what are you asking?"
He pushed the folder closer.
"I want to tell the truth."
I called Daniel.
Within an hour, Jordan was sitting in his office with an attorney of his own, reviewing the documents before giving a formal statement.
He provided messages from Dad.
He identified the accounts used to receive the money.
He explained how Marcus had instructed him to sign ownership paperwork.
And he agreed to preserve the remaining funds.
I watched through the glass wall as he spoke.
Part of me felt relief.
Another part felt grief.
Because I realized my brother had never learned what it meant to be loved without being controlled.
That evening, my mother called.
"Nia, your father knows Jordan spoke to the lawyers."
My stomach tightened.
"How?"
"Jordan told him."
I closed my eyes.
"Mom, where are you?"
"At home."
Her voice was trembling.
"Marcus is furious."
"Leave the house."
She didn't answer.
"Mom."
"He says all three of us have betrayed him."
My pulse quickened.
"Is he threatening you?"
She started crying.
"He smashed a picture frame. He keeps shouting that everything is your fault."
I stood.
"Go to Aunt Denise's house."
"He won't let me take the car."
I looked toward Daniel's office.
"Call Denise. I'll stay on the phone."
My mother breathed shakily.
Then I heard my father's voice in the background.
"Who are you talking to?"
Silence.
"Claire!"
My mother whispered, "Nia, I have to go."
The call ended.
I immediately called Aunt Denise.
Within minutes, she was heading to the house.
I also contacted local authorities to request a welfare check because I was concerned about my mother's safety.
I wanted to drive there myself.
Daniel stopped me.
"You do not need to walk into a volatile situation."
I hated that he was right.
Forty minutes later, Denise called.
My mother was safe.
She had left with a small suitcase.
I exhaled so hard that my knees nearly gave out.
But the night wasn't over.
At nine, I received an email from my company's bank.
An attempted transfer had been blocked.
Someone had tried to move nearly eighty thousand dollars from Northstar's operating account.
The request had come through credentials connected to an old administrator profile.
A profile we had already flagged.
My father was still trying.
Even after everything.
Maya called immediately.
"Nia, we've locked down the remaining access."
I leaned against my kitchen counter.
"Was anything taken?"
"No."
I closed my eyes.
"Good."
Then she hesitated.
"But the bank sent us something else."
"What?"
"The attempted transfer included a note."
I frowned.
"What note?"
Maya read it slowly.
"Final settlement before departure."
My stomach turned.
"Departure?"
Daniel called a few minutes later.
He had just received information from Jordan's attorney.
My father had told Jordan he was leaving town.
Possibly leaving the country.
And he wanted access to whatever money remained.
I sat down.
For years, Marcus had told us family came first.
Now, with everything collapsing, he was preparing to disappear.
And leave his wife, son, and daughter behind to face the damage.
I looked at Grandma's letter on my kitchen table.
May you like
Then I whispered something I had never been strong enough to say before.
"You're not taking anything else from me, Dad."
