Chapter 6: His Mother's Last Instruction
Isaiah held the phone with both hands.
For several seconds, he could hear only the faint hiss of the connection and the uneven rhythm of his own breathing.
“My mother left instructions?”” he finally asked.
Marlene's voice softened.
“Yes, sweetheart.””
He hadn't heard anyone call him that in years.
“Why didn't you come see me?””
The question escaped before he could stop it.
On the other end, Marlene went silent.
Mrs. Green stood nearby, giving him room to speak but remaining close enough that he could reach for her if he needed to.
Finally, Marlene said, “Because your father told me you didn't want to see me.””
Isaiah stared at the wall.
“He said you didn't care about us.””
“I called him for months after Denise died. Every time I asked to speak with you, he said you were upset, or you were busy, or you needed space.””
“I was nine.””
“I know.””
Her voice broke.
“I should have come anyway.””
Isaiah closed his eyes.
He remembered his aunt as a woman who wore bright scarves and carried peppermint candies in her purse. He remembered her dancing with his mother in the kitchen during a birthday party, both of them laughing so hard that Denise had to lean against the refrigerator.
Then she had vanished.
For years, Isaiah had accepted his father's explanation because it was easier than wondering why someone who had once loved him had stopped.
“You could've visited,” he whispered.
“Yes,” Marlene said.
“I could have. And I should have. I'm sorry.””
The apology didn't repair seven years of absence, but it sounded different from the apologies Isaiah had grown used to hearing from Curtis.
Marlene wasn't asking him to forgive her immediately.
She was admitting that she had made a mistake.
“What instructions did Mom leave?”” he asked.
Marlene took a breath.
“Your mother knew she was getting sick. She didn't tell everyone how frightened she was, but she knew she might not have as much time as she wanted. Before she died, she met with an attorney and arranged for a small education fund to be managed for you.””
Isaiah looked at the bank slip.
“How much?””
“I don't know exactly what remains. There were investments, savings, and a life insurance payment. Some of the money was intended for your care, and some was supposed to stay protected until you were older.””
“How much was supposed to stay protected?””
“Enough to help you finish school and start college or vocational training, if that's what you wanted.””
Isaiah swallowed.
“Did Dad know?””
“He knew about the fund. He was appointed to manage certain expenses, but he wasn't supposed to treat the money as his own.””
Mrs. Green pulled out a chair for Isaiah.
He sat down.
“Why did you have to approve withdrawals?””
“Because your mother wanted another adult involved. She loved Curtis, but she knew he sometimes made decisions when he was scared or angry. She wanted to make sure somebody else could question those decisions.””
Isaiah stared at the floor.
“She knew he was like that?””
Marlene answered carefully.
“She knew he could be controlling. She hoped he would change. She also knew that loving someone doesn't mean ignoring the things that frighten you.””
The words settled heavily in Isaiah's chest.
He thought of the way Curtis controlled the television, the thermostat, the grocery list, and even the length of Isaiah's phone calls. He remembered his father standing in the kitchen after a bad day, demanding to know why a cup had been left in the sink.
He had always assumed that was simply what fathers were like.
“Can you prove what happened to the money?”” he asked.
“I have some old statements. Your mother gave me copies of the original paperwork. I kept them in a safe place.””
“Why didn't you tell someone when Dad stopped paying the rent?””
“I didn't know about the rent. I didn't know he'd lost his job. I didn't even know he was withdrawing money until the bank sent me a notice asking me to verify a transaction.””
Isaiah frowned.
“When was that?””
“Six months ago.””
The same month Curtis stopped paying rent.
“What did you do?””
“I called him. He told me it was a mistake and promised to correct it. When I asked to speak with you, he said you were fine and that he didn't want me interfering.””
“And you believed him?””
Marlene let out a long breath.
“I wanted to believe him. I thought if something serious were wrong, he'd tell me.””
Isaiah looked at Mrs. Green.
She didn't interrupt.
Marlene continued, “After that, I received a letter saying I was no longer authorized on the account. It included a copy of a document with my signature.””
Isaiah sat upright.
“Did you sign it?””
“No.””
The answer was immediate.
“Someone forged your signature, too?””
“I believe so. I never agreed to give up my authority.””
Mrs. Green reached for a notepad.
“Do you still have the letter?””
“Yes. And I have the original documents your mother gave me.””
“Can you bring them to the property manager's office this morning?””
“I can.””
Isaiah looked at the clock.
“Can I see you?””
Marlene's breathing caught.
“Of course.””
“Today?””
“Yes, sweetheart. Today.””
After they ended the call, Isaiah remained at the table, staring at the bank transaction.
Mrs. Green poured him a glass of water.
“You don't have to decide how you feel about your aunt right now.””
“I don't know how to feel about anyone.””
“That makes sense.””
“What if Dad really took the money?””
“Then you'll have to decide what you need to do to protect yourself. But first, we find out what happened.””
Isaiah picked up the glass.
“What if he says he did it for me?””
Mrs. Green sat across from him.
“Someone can love you and still do something wrong. The love doesn't erase the harm, and the harm doesn't mean you have to stop loving them overnight.””
Isaiah looked down at the water.
That was the worst part.
He still remembered Curtis teaching him to ride a bicycle in the parking lot. He remembered his father carrying him through the emergency room when he broke his wrist at eleven. He remembered the night Curtis stayed awake beside him after a nightmare about his mother.
Those memories were real.
So was the backpack on the hallway floor.
At nine o'clock, Isaiah and Mrs. Green met Ms. Parker in the property management office downstairs.
The room smelled of printer toner and old coffee. A stack of maintenance requests sat beside a computer monitor, and a small fan rattled on the filing cabinet.
Curtis was already there.
He stood beside the window, wearing a clean polo shirt and holding a folder against his chest.
When Isaiah entered, Curtis looked at him.
“You brought him?””
Mrs. Green answered before Isaiah could.
“He has every right to understand what's happening.””
Curtis's mouth tightened.
Ms. Parker gestured toward the chairs.
“Let's keep this focused on the documents. We're here to establish the lease status and identify what was submitted.””
She laid out copies of the original lease, the transfer request, and the statement claiming Mrs. Green had moved away.
Curtis sat down but kept his folder closed.
Ms. Parker pointed to the transfer request.
“Mr. Cole, did you submit this document?””
Curtis rubbed his thumb along the edge of the folder.
“I submitted paperwork to update the lease.””
“Did Mrs. Green sign it?””
“She agreed to the arrangement.””
Mrs. Green stared at him.
“I did no such thing.””
Curtis looked toward the window.
“We discussed it.””
“When?””
“A while ago.””
“Where?””
He didn't answer.
Ms. Parker folded her hands.
“The document states that Mrs. Green signed in person at the management office. Our records show no appointment and no witness.””
Curtis shifted in his chair.
“Then someone must have entered the information incorrectly.””
“Who submitted the document?””
“I don't remember.””
Ms. Parker's expression remained professional.
“Mr. Cole, the file shows it was uploaded through your tenant account.””
Curtis leaned forward.
“Are you accusing me of forgery?””
“I'm asking you to clarify the information.””
“Then stop treating me like a criminal.””
Isaiah watched his father's hands. They were moving now, fingers drumming against the folder, the same restless motion Curtis made whenever he felt cornered.
Ms. Parker turned to Mrs. Green.
“Do you have anything that could help establish the discrepancy?””
Mrs. Green produced the original lease and a handwritten note from her personal records showing the date she had last communicated with the management office.
“I never requested a transfer,” she said.
“And I never authorized anyone to sign for me.””
Ms. Parker compared the documents.
“Thank you. We'll preserve the originals and refer the disputed signature for review.””
Curtis abruptly stood.
“This is ridiculous. You people are making a mountain out of nothing.””
Isaiah rose too.
“Then why won't you tell the truth?””
Curtis turned toward him.
“Sit down.””
“No.””
The word came out quietly, but it carried across the small office.
Curtis stared at his son.
Isaiah's knees were shaking. His palms were damp. He was terrified of what might happen when they left the office, but he had finally realized that fear wasn't proof that he was wrong.
“You told me we had no money,” Isaiah said.
“You told me you lost your job because the company cut your hours. You told me the apartment belonged to you. Every time I asked a question, you made me feel stupid for asking.””
Curtis's jaw worked.
“I was trying to keep our family together.””
“By taking Mom's money?””
“Watch your mouth.””
“By putting my stuff in the hallway?””
“Isaiah!””
Ms. Parker stood.
“Mr. Cole, please lower your voice.””
Curtis took a breath and sat down again.
For a moment, he looked genuinely ashamed.
Then he opened his folder.
“I have records,” he said.
“I can show you where the money went. I can explain the rent. But I need everyone to stop acting like I did this because I don't care about my son.””
He pulled out a stack of receipts and bank statements.
Isaiah watched as Curtis spread them across the desk.
There were utility bills, grocery purchases, a payment to an auto repair shop, and several transfers to an account Isaiah didn't recognize.
Ms. Parker examined the papers.
“Some of these transactions are unrelated to the apartment.””
Curtis pointed to the repair receipt.
“My car broke down. I needed it to find work.””
“And this transfer?”” Ms. Parker asked.
Curtis hesitated.
“Personal expenses.””
“What kind of personal expenses?””
“Things I had to pay.””
Isaiah looked at the amount.
It was $1,200.
The recipient's name was printed beneath the transaction.
*MONICA REED.*
He had heard that name before.
Not from his father.
From a voicemail he had accidentally heard months ago, when Curtis had left his phone on the kitchen counter.
A woman's voice had said, You promised you'd handle it before the end of the month.
Isaiah stared at the page.
“Dad, who's Monica Reed?””
Curtis snatched the statement back.
“Nobody you need to worry about.””
“Why did you send her twelve hundred dollars?””
“It's none of your business.””
“You took money from Mom's account and sent it to someone you won't explain?””
Curtis stood again.
“That's enough!””
Ms. Parker moved between them.
“Mr. Cole, this meeting is over if you cannot remain calm.””
Curtis looked at Isaiah, breathing hard.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Whatever he saw made him forget the argument completely.
He stepped away from the desk and answered in a low voice.
“What do you mean, she came there?””
A pause.
“No. I told you not to contact him.””
Isaiah's blood ran cold.
Curtis turned toward the office door.
“Listen to me. Nobody talks to Isaiah until I get there.””
He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.
Mrs. Green stood.
“Who was that?””
Curtis didn't answer.
Isaiah looked at the statement still lying on the desk.
Monica Reed.
Then he looked at his father.
“Dad, who's coming?””
Curtis grabbed his folder.
“Stay here.””
But Isaiah was already on his feet.
“No. Tell me what's going on.””
Curtis's expression hardened, yet his voice trembled.
“Your mother's sister isn't the only person who knows about that money.””
He looked directly at Isaiah.
“And the woman who just called me is the person who can prove where it went.””
The office door opened behind them.
A woman in her early forties stepped inside, carrying a thick envelope.
She looked at Curtis first.
Then at Isaiah.
Her face softened with a sadness that made Isaiah feel as though she had known him for years.
May you like
“I'm Monica Reed,” she said.
“And I think you deserve to know what your father promised me with your mother's money.””
