Chapter 2: The Missing Money
Marcus walked away from us.
That was the first thing that scared me.
Not the phone call.
Not the bank statement.
Not even the $49,800.
It was the way my stepfather turned his back on everyone and lowered his voice.
I watched him pace beside the mailbox.
“Yes,” he said into the phone.
“I understand.””
A pause.
“No. That can't be right.””
Another pause.
His shoulders stiffened.
“Send me the documents.””
He hung up.
Tasha was crying silently.
I took her hand.
“What was that?””
Marcus looked at me.
“Nothing.””
I almost laughed.
“Nothing?””
“It was a misunderstanding.””
Tasha wiped her cheeks.
“Who called?””
Marcus ignored her.
“Everybody inside.””
“No,” Tasha said.
He looked at her.
“I said inside.””
“And I said no.””
My mother gasped.
“Tasha!””
Tasha's voice shook, but she didn't back down.
“You've been telling me I'm irresponsible for years. You've told me I wasn't mature enough to manage my own money. You've made me work every weekend while you controlled everything.””
She lifted the statement.
“So explain this.””
Marcus glanced toward the neighbors.
“Not in front of them.””
I looked around.
One by one, our neighbors were pretending not to listen.
But nobody was leaving.
I couldn't blame them.
This wasn't a birthday party anymore.
It was an explosion.
I turned to Marcus.
“Let's go inside.””
He seemed surprised.
“Why?””
“Because I want the truth.””
Tasha nodded.
“So do I.””
My mother looked between us.
“Both of you are acting emotional.””
I shook my head.
“No. We're acting awake.””
We went inside.
The living room still looked like a birthday advertisement.
Pink ribbons.
White balloons.
A huge cake with *HAPPY 17TH, MAYA!* written in glittering icing.
My favorite flowers sat on the coffee table.
My new phone was still inside its box.
Everything suddenly made me uncomfortable.
Tasha stood near the kitchen doorway.
She stared at the cake.
Then she laughed softly.
“Of course.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“My birthday cake was a grocery-store cupcake.””
I remembered.
Three weeks earlier, she'd come home after work carrying a little plastic container.
She had smiled and said she bought it herself because nobody remembered.
I had thought she was joking.
I hadn't realized she wasn't.
Marcus shut the front door.
“Enough.””
I turned around.
“No. Not enough.””
He pointed toward the couch.
“Sit down.””
Tasha stayed standing.
I stayed beside her.
Marcus sighed.
“Your mother and I made decisions we believed were best.””
“Using Tasha's money?””
“It wasn't exactly her money yet.””
Tasha's eyes widened.
“What does that mean?””
“The trust had conditions.””
“What conditions?””
Marcus hesitated.
I saw it.
That tiny pause.
The hesitation of someone searching for a believable answer.
I said, “Show us the trust documents.””
My mother immediately said, “Maya, this doesn't concern you.””
“It concerns me if my birthday gift was bought with stolen money.””
“It wasn't stolen.””
“Then show us.””
Marcus stared at me.
“No.””
The room went quiet.
Tasha whispered, “Why not?””
Marcus walked toward his office.
“Because you don't understand legal documents.””
Tasha followed.
“I can read.””
“You're upset.””
“I've been upset for years.””
He stopped.
She nearly walked into him.
Marcus turned around.
“Your mother left that trust because she knew you weren't ready to handle money.””
Tasha's face crumpled.
“She knew I wasn't ready at nineteen?””
“She wanted me to manage it.””
“Until when?””
“Until I finished college.””
“And what happens then?””
“You receive the remainder.””
Tasha looked at him.
“How much was supposed to remain?””
Marcus didn't answer.
“Dad.””
Nothing.
“Dad, how much?””
He finally said, “About sixty thousand.””
Tasha stared at him.
“About?””
“You're focusing on the wrong thing.””
“No,” she whispered.
“I'm finally focusing on the right thing.””
She reached for the office door.
Marcus blocked her.
“You're not going in there.””
“Why?””
“Because my files are private.””
I looked at the desk behind him.
There were folders stacked everywhere.
Bank envelopes.
Receipts.
A laptop.
And on the corner of the desk sat a small black folder.
I recognized Tasha's name printed on its tab.
“Tasha,” I said.
She looked past Marcus.
“What?””
I pointed.
“Your name.””
Marcus moved instantly.
He grabbed the folder.
Too quickly.
I knew then that whatever was inside mattered.
“Give it to her,” I said.
“No.””
Tasha's voice became strangely calm.
“Dad.””
He didn't move.
“Give me my file.””
“You're not thinking clearly.””
“Give me my file.””
My mother stepped between them.
“Tasha, listen to him.””
Tasha looked at her.
“Did you know?””
Nia froze.
“Know what?””
“That my money paid for Maya's car.””
My mother's silence lasted only two seconds.
But it was enough.
Tasha's face changed.
“You knew.””
“I knew your father was helping with the purchase.””
“With my money?””
“I didn't know the exact amount.””
“But you knew.””
Nia looked away.
Tasha nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
I squeezed her hand.
“Okay what?””
She looked at me.
“Now I know why you always got everything.””
My heart sank.
“I didn't know.””
“I know.””
“I swear.””
“I know, Maya.””
Her voice broke.
“That almost makes it worse.””
I hugged her.
She cried against my shoulder.
Behind us, Marcus suddenly said, “The car isn't the real problem.””
I pulled away.
“What?””
He opened the black folder.
“The trust was already being drained before today.””
Tasha stared at him.
“By who?””
Marcus looked at her.
“You.””
She stepped back.
“What?””
“You signed the withdrawal forms.””
“I never signed anything.””
“I have the documents.””
He pulled out several sheets.
Tasha took them.
Her eyes moved across the page.
Then she shook her head.
“This isn't my signature.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“It is.””
“No.””
“You signed it.””
“I didn't.””
He slammed his palm onto the desk.
“You were told about these withdrawals.””
“I wasn't!””
“You're lying.””
Tasha flinched.
I stepped forward.
“Don't talk to her like that.””
Marcus pointed at the papers.
“You want proof?””
He turned one document around.
“This withdrawal was made eleven months ago.””
I looked at the amount.
$18,500.
Another showed $12,000.
Another, $7,200.
Another, $9,600.
The total made my stomach twist.
Nearly fifty thousand dollars had disappeared before my birthday.
And none of those transactions were for my car.
Tasha stared at the signatures.
“I didn't sign these.””
My mother whispered, “Maybe you forgot.””
Tasha looked at her.
“You think I forgot taking almost fifty thousand dollars?””
Nobody answered.
Then my eyes landed on the signature.
There was something familiar about it.
Not because it belonged to Tasha.
Because I'd seen that handwriting before.
On birthday cards.
On grocery lists.
On notes left beside my mother's coffee cup.
I looked at Nia.
“Mom?””
She turned toward me.
“What?””
I picked up the document.
“Why does Tasha's signature look exactly like yours?””
Her face went white.
Marcus immediately reached for the paper.
But before he could take it, the front doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then a man's voice called from outside.
“Mr. Johnson? I'm from the bank.””
Marcus froze.
The man continued.
“I need to speak with Maya Johnson and Tasha Johnson.””
I looked at Tasha.
She looked at me.
May you like
Then the man added:
“And I'd strongly recommend that neither of you leave the house until we discuss the fraud report.””
