Chapter 2: The Money My Mother Left Behind
The Cadillac was quiet for almost ten minutes.
I sat in the passenger seat, staring at the transfer notification on my phone.
Fifty thousand dollars.
The money was back.
But I couldn't feel relieved.
Not when Dad had just mentioned my mother's inheritance.
"How much?"" I finally asked.
Richard tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Your mother established a trust for you before she passed.""
"I know.""
"Do you remember what she told you about it?""
I nodded slowly.
My mother, Elena, had been the kind of woman who remembered everyone's birthday and always kept emergency cash in a kitchen drawer.
She'd also been careful with money.
When she became seriously ill, she arranged several things for my future.
A college fund.
A small investment portfolio.
And a trust that would become fully accessible when I turned twenty-five.
I was twenty-four now.
I'd never been particularly interested in discussing it.
Dad had always told me it was there if I needed it.
I had assumed everything was fine.
"I remember her saying she wanted me to have something of my own," I said.
Richard nodded.
"She did.""
"Then why are you bringing it up now?""
He drove past a row of tall trees before answering.
"Because yesterday, my attorney called me.""
I turned toward him.
"What did he say?""
"He discovered several irregularities in the trust records.""
"What kind of irregularities?""
Richard took a slow breath.
"Withdrawals.""
I stared at him.
"How many?""
"At least six.""
My phone slipped slightly in my hand.
"How much?""
"Approximately $180,000.""
For a moment, the road seemed to tilt beneath us.
"That's impossible.""
"I thought so too.""
"Who had access?""
Richard didn't answer immediately.
I already knew.
"Diane?""
He nodded.
"Your mother appointed me as the primary trustee. But after I married Diane, I authorized her to help with certain administrative matters while I was traveling for work.""
I stared at him.
"You gave her access?""
"Limited access.""
"To my mother's money?""
"I trusted her.""
His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
I looked out the window.
I didn't want to hurt him.
But I couldn't pretend that his decision hadn't hurt me.
"Did you ever check the account?""
"Not as often as I should have.""
I swallowed.
"Why?""
He didn't defend himself.
Instead, he said something that made my chest tighten.
"Because I thought you were safe.""
We reached his office building twenty minutes later.
It was a glass-and-steel structure downtown, with a private entrance and security guards who knew him by name.
Richard parked underground.
Before we got out, he turned toward me.
"I want you to understand something, Nia. Whatever happened with that money, it wasn't your fault.""
I nodded.
But the words didn't settle the storm inside me.
"Can we find out where it went?""
"That's exactly what we're going to do.""
His office occupied the entire top floor.
Dark wood furniture.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A long conference table.
And framed photographs of our family arranged along one wall.
My mother's picture was still there.
She was laughing in it, her dark hair blowing across her face.
I stopped in front of it.
"She would've hated this," I whispered.
Richard stood behind me.
"She would've hated that someone made you feel you had to ask permission to be treated fairly.""
I wiped my cheek.
Before he could say anything else, his assistant, Margaret, entered carrying two folders.
"Mr. Hayes, your attorney is waiting in the conference room.""
Richard nodded.
"Thank you. And Margaret?""
"Yes?""
"Please arrange for Nia to have a private office here for the afternoon.""
I turned.
"Dad, I don't need—"
"You're not going to spend the afternoon sitting in a hallway while we investigate your mother's trust.""
Margaret smiled gently.
"Of course, Mr. Hayes.""
I followed him into the conference room.
A man in his early sixties stood beside the window.
His name was Thomas Reed.
He'd been my father's attorney for nearly twenty years and had helped my mother prepare her estate documents.
"Nia," he said warmly.
"It's good to see you.""
"Wish the circumstances were better.""
Thomas gave a small nod.
"Unfortunately, so do I.""
He opened the first folder.
Inside were bank statements, transaction summaries, and copies of authorization forms.
"Your mother's trust originally contained approximately $620,000," he explained.
I stared at the figure.
Six hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
I had never known the exact amount.
"How much is left?"" I asked.
Thomas turned a page.
"Approximately $438,000, before accounting for investment performance and any disputed fees.""
Richard leaned forward.
"And the withdrawals?""
Thomas arranged six documents across the table.
"Here.""
I looked at the dates.
The first withdrawal had happened three years earlier.
The second, two years later.
The most recent one had occurred just five months ago.
"Who authorized them?"" Richard asked.
Thomas pointed to the signatures.
"Diane Hayes.""
I felt sick.
"She signed my name?""
Thomas hesitated.
"On several documents, yes.""
I leaned closer.
The signatures looked almost like mine.
Almost.
But the capital N was wrong.
My mother had taught me to write my name in cursive when I was seven.
I'd never forgotten that distinctive loop.
"That's not my signature," I whispered.
Thomas nodded.
"We've already flagged that.""
Richard's face had gone pale.
"Where did the money go?""
Thomas opened another document.
"Some went into an account associated with Diane. Some went toward household expenses. But a substantial amount appears to have been transferred into an investment account.""
"Whose account?"" I asked.
Thomas looked at my father.
Then he looked at me.
"Ava Hayes.""
Silence.
I blinked.
"My sister?""
Thomas nodded.
"An account opened in her name approximately three years ago.""
I pushed my chair back.
"Why would Diane put my mother's money into Ava's account?""
Richard stood up.
"That's what we're going to find out.""
I looked at the statements again.
Three years.
Six withdrawals.
One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
My mother's money had been used to finance Ava's life.
Her luxury apartment.
Her designer wardrobe.
Her expensive vacations.
I remembered Ava telling me last Christmas that she'd bought her new car with money she'd saved herself.
I'd congratulated her.
I'd even told her I was proud of her.
The memory made my stomach turn.
"Did Ava know?"" I asked.
Thomas folded his hands.
"That's something we cannot establish from these documents alone.""
Richard paced toward the window.
"She's my daughter. I don't want to believe she knew.""
I looked at him.
"And what about Diane?""
He stopped.
"She signed the documents.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
Richard turned around.
"No. It doesn't.""
For the next hour, Thomas explained what could be done.
The trust records would be secured.
The bank would be notified of disputed authorizations.
An independent forensic accountant would trace the funds.
And Diane would no longer have any authority over the account.
I listened carefully.
For the first time, I understood why my mother had spent so much time teaching me to keep copies of important documents.
She'd known that money could disappear.
She'd also known that people sometimes hid behind family titles.
When the meeting ended, Richard walked me into the private office Margaret had arranged.
There was a desk, a leather chair, and a large window overlooking the city.
I placed my phone on the desk.
"Dad?""
He turned.
"Yes?""
"Why didn't you notice?""
He didn't pretend not to understand.
He looked at the floor.
"Because I was busy building a company. Because I thought I had hired good people to handle things. Because I believed the person I married would protect my children.""
His voice became quieter.
"And because I failed to realize that protecting you meant paying attention.""
I wanted to tell him it was okay.
But it wasn't.
So I simply nodded.
He left me alone for a while.
At 4:17 p.m., my phone rang.
Ava.
I watched her name flash across the screen.
Then I answered.
"What?""
Her voice came through immediately.
"Are you serious right now?""
I closed my eyes.
"Hello to you too.""
"Mom is crying because of what Dad did.""
I stared at the window.
"What did Dad do?""
"He humiliated her. He made her transfer the money like she was some criminal.""
"She sold my car.""
"She was trying to solve a problem!""
"What problem, Ava?""
Ava sighed dramatically.
"Your attitude. You never appreciate anything. Mom has done more for this family than you ever have.""
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I couldn't believe she was saying this.
"She sold my car and kept the money.""
"She transferred it back!""
"After Dad demanded it.""
Ava went quiet.
Then she lowered her voice.
"Listen, Nia. Just stop making things difficult. Dad is already under a lot of pressure. You don't want him choosing between us.""
I looked at the photograph of my mother on the wall.
Then I answered.
"Why would he have to choose?""
Ava didn't reply.
I continued.
"Unless you know something about the inheritance.""
There was a pause.
A long one.
Then she said, "What inheritance?""
I almost believed her.
Almost.
But before I could answer, I heard another voice in the background.
Diane.
"Hang up, Ava!""
Ava spoke quickly.
"I have to go.""
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
A few seconds later, a message arrived.
Not from Ava.
From an unknown number.
*Nia, stop asking questions about your mother's trust. You have no idea what you're about to uncover.*
I read it twice.
Then I looked toward the conference room.
My father was still talking to Thomas.
I walked back inside and showed them the message.
Richard read it.
His face hardened.
"Who sent this?""
"I don't know.""
Thomas took the phone.
"Don't respond. I'll preserve it.""
Richard reached for his own phone.
"I'm calling Diane.""
Thomas stopped him.
"Richard, I would advise against that until we understand what's happening.""
But my father was already dialing.
Diane answered on the second ring.
"Hello, darling.""
Richard's voice was cold.
"Did you send Nia a message telling her to stop asking about her mother's trust?""
Silence.
Then Diane laughed nervously.
"What? No. Why would I do that?""
"Because someone just did.""
"Richard, you're being paranoid.""
He glanced at me.
"Then you won't mind answering one question.""
"Of course not.""
"How much money did you take from Elena's trust?""
The silence on the other end lasted several seconds.
Then Diane said something that made my father's expression change completely.
"Richard, if you keep digging, you'll destroy this family.""
He lowered the phone slightly.
May you like
And for the first time, I realized that Diane wasn't afraid of losing the money.
She was afraid of what the money would reveal.
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