Chapter 3: The Secret My Mother Left Behind
Nobody spoke.
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen.
Somewhere outside, a car passed through the neighborhood.
Dad stood beside the dining table, one hand resting on the back of his chair.
Vanessa remained frozen near the doorway.
"Before I married you?"" Dad repeated.
She rubbed her forehead.
"I didn't mean it like that.""
"Then what did you mean?""
Vanessa glanced at me.
"Can we discuss this privately?""
Dad shook his head.
"No. You were comfortable discussing my daughter's rent in front of everyone. We're discussing this in front of everyone.""
Jordan stood up from the sofa.
"Mom, what's going on?""
Vanessa snapped at him.
"Sit down.""
He hesitated.
"Mom—"
"I said sit down!""
Jordan dropped back onto the sofa.
Brielle placed her phone beside her.
For once, neither of them seemed interested in whatever was happening on their screens.
Dad picked up the bank statement.
"Explain the account.""
Vanessa exhaled.
"Your first wife and I knew each other.""
I frowned.
"What?""
She looked at me.
"Your mother and I weren't strangers, Maya.""
I stared at her.
"Mom never mentioned you.""
"Because we weren't close.""
Dad's eyes narrowed.
"How did you know Denise?""
Vanessa looked down.
"We worked in the same building for a while. Different departments. We knew some of the same people.""
I tried to remember anything my mother had said about a woman named Vanessa.
Nothing came to mind.
My mother had kept a small circle of friends.
She was private, warm, and careful about the people she trusted.
"Why did you never tell us?"" Dad asked.
Vanessa shrugged.
"It wasn't important.""
"Apparently it was important enough for you to know about her daughter's savings account.""
She pressed her lips together.
Dad pulled out another chair.
"Start talking.""
Vanessa finally sat.
She explained that years before Dad married her, she had worked for a financial services company.
Mom had once asked her a question about setting up a savings account for a child.
According to Vanessa, she had helped Mom understand the paperwork.
But I noticed something.
Vanessa kept saying helped.
She never said exactly what she had done.
Dad noticed, too.
"What was your role?""
"I helped with the forms.""
"Which forms?""
"I don't remember.""
"Was Maya's account one of them?""
Vanessa looked toward the ceiling.
"It might have been.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Why would you have access to my savings account?""
She turned toward me.
"I was helping your mother.""
"Then why did you never tell me?""
"Because you were a child.""
Dad leaned forward.
"Vanessa, don't change the subject. Did Denise authorize you to access that account?""
Vanessa hesitated.
"I don't remember the details.""
Dad stared at her.
"You don't remember?""
"It was years ago, Marcus.""
"Then why is your phone number still connected to the account?""
She rubbed her temples.
"Because I probably helped with the notifications.""
I stepped closer to the table.
"But the bank said you were added six months ago.""
Vanessa looked at me.
Her expression sharpened.
"You're very comfortable repeating things you don't understand.""
I pulled out my phone.
"I recorded the bank's contact information.""
Dad held out his hand.
"Let me see.""
I opened the email from Patricia, the bank representative.
The message included the transaction dates and the account-access history.
Dad read it.
Then he read it again.
"Six months ago," he said.
Vanessa's shoulders dropped.
"Maybe I was updating the contact information.""
"Why?""
"Because the bank was sending notifications to an old number.""
"Whose number?""
She didn't answer.
Dad's voice rose.
"Whose number, Vanessa?""
"Denise's!""
The word hung in the air.
Dad went completely still.
I had never heard Vanessa say my mother's name with anger before.
It was as if she had accidentally revealed something she had been trying to keep hidden.
Dad stepped away from the table.
"Denise has been dead for eight years.""
"I know that!""
"Then why would you be updating her account information?""
Vanessa stood.
"Because someone had to handle it!""
Dad stared at her.
"Handle what?""
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
I watched her carefully.
Her face was no longer composed.
Her fingers were shaking.
I had spent months thinking she was simply selfish.
Now I was beginning to understand that there was something much bigger beneath her behavior.
And whatever it was, she had been hiding it from Dad.
I pulled another sheet from my backpack.
"This is the transaction list.""
Dad took it.
"These are the seven withdrawals?""
"Yes.""
He studied the dates.
"Where did this one go?""
I pointed to the first transaction.
"An account ending in 4821.""
He looked at the next.
"Same account?""
"No. Different one.""
I showed him the details.
The transfers had gone to three separate destinations.
Two were personal accounts.
One was a payment service.
The bank had not identified the final recipients in the statement.
But the account details were enough to make Dad's expression darken.
"Do you recognize these?""
He looked at Vanessa.
She shook her head.
"No.""
"Not one?""
"No.""
I remembered something.
The night I first noticed the withdrawals, I had been sitting in the kitchen when Vanessa received a call.
She had stepped into the laundry room.
I hadn't intended to listen.
But I heard her say:
"I told you I'd handle it.""
A pause.
Then:
"No, not from my account.""
Another pause.
"Use the other one.""
At the time, I assumed she was talking about a bill.
Now I wasn't sure.
I looked at Dad.
"There's something else.""
He turned toward me.
"What is it?""
"I heard Vanessa on the phone a few weeks ago. She said she was handling something and told someone to use another account.""
Vanessa's head snapped toward me.
"You're making things up.""
"I'm not.""
"You've been listening to my private conversations?""
"I heard you talking.""
She took a step toward me.
Dad moved between us immediately.
"Stay away from her.""
Vanessa threw up her hands.
"This is unbelievable!""
Dad pointed to the chair.
"Sit down.""
"I'm not sitting here while you let her accuse me!""
"Then answer the questions.""
Vanessa looked at him.
For several seconds, I thought she might finally tell us everything.
Instead, she picked up her purse.
"I'm leaving.""
Dad's voice was firm.
"You're not taking those documents.""
She stopped.
"What?""
"The documents belong to Maya.""
Vanessa slowly put her purse down.
Then she said something that made Dad's expression change again.
"You really want to do this, Marcus? After everything I've done for you?""
He looked exhausted.
"What have you done?""
"I kept this house together.""
"This house?""
"Yes! While you were busy working and traveling, I was here!""
Dad stared at her.
"You were supposed to be my partner.""
"I was!""
"Then why were you taking money from my daughter?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
But they weren't tears of guilt.
They were angry tears.
"Because you never gave me enough control over anything!""
Dad blinked.
"What?""
"You heard me. Everything in this house has always been about Maya. Her college. Her future.
Her mother. Her memories. Her money.""
I felt as though someone had punched me.
Dad slowly shook his head.
"You're jealous of my daughter?""
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"I'm tired of being treated like a guest in my own marriage!""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
She turned toward me.
"Do you know what it's like living with a girl who thinks the whole world revolves around her dead mother?""
My hands went cold.
Dad stepped forward.
"Don't you ever speak about Denise like that again.""
Vanessa threw her hands up.
"See? There it is! Denise this, Denise that! Even after all these years, she still controls this family!""
Dad's face hardened.
"Denise is Maya's mother. She will always be part of this family.""
Vanessa looked at him with open contempt.
"Then maybe you should have married her ghost instead of me.""
The room fell silent.
Dad looked at her for a long moment.
Then he quietly picked up the phone from the table.
"Marcus?"" Vanessa said.
He dialed a number.
"Who are you calling?""
"My attorney.""
Her expression changed.
"You're calling a lawyer over eleven thousand dollars?""
Dad didn't answer.
He put the phone to his ear.
"Hello, Daniel. I need you to help me understand something. My wife's phone number was added to my daughter's savings account without my daughter's knowledge, and there have been several unauthorized withdrawals.""
Vanessa's face went pale.
Dad continued.
"Yes. I have the records. And I need to know what steps we take to protect the remaining funds.""
He listened.
Then he nodded.
"Understood.""
He ended the call.
Vanessa stared at him.
"You can't be serious.""
Dad placed the phone down.
"I'm very serious.""
Jordan stood up.
"Mom, maybe we should just talk about this tomorrow.""
Vanessa turned toward him.
"Stay out of it.""
Brielle looked between her mother and Dad.
"Are we getting kicked out?""
Nobody answered.
Dad gathered the papers into a neat pile.
"Nobody is making any decisions until we understand exactly what happened.""
Vanessa let out a bitter laugh.
"Fine. You want to understand? Ask Maya why she never told you that Denise left her more than one account.""
My head snapped up.
"What?""
Dad looked at me.
"What is she talking about?""
Vanessa crossed her arms.
For the first time, she seemed almost relieved.
As if she had finally found a way to shift the attention away from herself.
"Your daughter knows more than she's telling you.""
I shook my head.
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"Really?""
She tilted her head.
"Then ask her about the blue envelope.""
Dad turned toward me.
"Maya?""
My heart started pounding.
I had never heard of a blue envelope.
"What blue envelope?""
Vanessa smiled faintly.
"Your mother left it with the original account paperwork. You should remember.""
I stared at her.
Mom had left me many things.
Her wedding ring.
A box of photographs.
Her favorite recipe book.
A handwritten letter for my eighteenth birthday.
But I didn't remember any blue envelope.
Dad looked confused.
"Denise never mentioned an envelope.""
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
"Of course she didn't.""
She reached for her purse again.
This time, Dad didn't stop her.
He simply watched.
"Where is it, Vanessa?"" I asked.
She paused.
"Where is what?""
"The blue envelope.""
Her eyes met mine.
And then she said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
"Ask your father what happened to the documents from your mother's safe-deposit box.""
Dad's face went completely white.
He slowly lowered himself into the chair.
I turned toward him.
"Dad?""
He didn't look at me.
His eyes were fixed on Vanessa.
May you like
Because apparently, the blue envelope wasn't the only thing missing.
And my father knew exactly where it had gone.
