Chapter 2: The Envelope My Father Had Been Looking For
My father didn't shout.
That was what frightened me most.
He stood between me and Monique, his shoulders squared, his jaw tight.
The fire continued crackling behind us.
A tiny piece of blue fabric lifted in the warm air before falling back into the ashes.
“Dad,” I whispered.
He turned slightly.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart?””
I shook my head.
“My dress.””
He looked toward the fire.
“I can see that.””
“Everything I saved for…”
My voice disappeared.
He reached back and gently held my shoulder.
“I know.””
Monique crossed her arms.
“Can we stop acting like somebody died? It's a dress.””
My father turned.
“Monique, I want you to explain exactly what happened.””
She sighed dramatically.
“She was being difficult. I wanted to look at it, and she started yelling.””
“That isn't what happened,” I said.
“See?”” Monique pointed at me.
“She always does this. She makes everything sound worse than it is.””
Denise stepped between them.
“Marcus, please. This is getting ridiculous.””
My father looked at her.
“Did you see what happened?””
Denise hesitated.
“I saw them arguing.””
“Did you see Monique throw the gown?””
Her lips tightened.
“I wasn't paying attention to every little thing.””
“Then why did you tell her to learn her place?””
For the first time, Denise had no immediate answer.
Monique stepped forward.
“Dad, why are you interrogating Mom? Nia is fine!””
He raised one hand.
“I'm speaking to your mother.””
Monique looked offended.
“Unbelievable.””
My father took a slow breath.
Then he asked Denise about the envelope.
“The envelope I left in my office. Where is it?””
Denise blinked.
“What envelope?””
“The cream-colored one. It was on my desk, inside the top drawer.””
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
“I left it there on Tuesday.””
“Marcus, I don't go through your office.””
He studied her face.
I had never seen him look at his wife that way.
“That's interesting,” he said.
Denise folded her arms.
“What is that supposed to mean?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, he took his phone from his pocket.
“I'm calling Raymond.””
Monique scoffed.
“Who is Raymond?””
“My attorney.””
Denise's expression changed.
“Why would you call your attorney over a graduation dress?””
My father looked at the burned fabric.
“I'm not calling him about the dress.””
He walked several steps away and made the call.
I watched him.
The afternoon sun had begun to sink behind the trees. The lake looked almost silver.
Monique moved closer to me.
“You think you've won something?””
I looked at her.
“I lost my graduation gown.””
“You can buy another one.””
“With what money?””
She shrugged.
“Ask Dad.””
I stared at her.
“You knew how much that meant to me.””
She leaned closer.
“And you knew how much I wanted to be the favorite.””
I stepped back.
“I'm not competing with you.””
“That's what you think.””
Before I could respond, Denise grabbed Monique's arm.
“Go inside.””
“Why?””
“Now.””
Monique pulled away.
“I'm not a child.””
“Then stop acting like one.””
They went through the back doors.
My father remained outside, speaking quietly on the phone.
I sat on the stone bench near the garden.
My hands were trembling.
A few minutes later, he returned.
“Raymond is coming over.””
“Why?””
He looked at me.
“Because something isn't right.””
I glanced toward the house.
“Dad, please don't make this bigger than it is.””
His expression softened.
“Nia, somebody deliberately destroyed something you spent months creating. And your mother—”
He stopped himself.
“Denise,” I corrected quietly.
He nodded.
“Denise watched it happen.””
I looked down.
“I don't want another fight.””
He sat beside me.
“Neither do I.””
“Then why are you calling a lawyer?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“Because I've been trying to solve a problem in this family for months, and I think I've been looking at the wrong part of it.””
I turned toward him.
“What problem?””
Before he could answer, the back door opened.
Denise emerged carrying two glasses of lemonade.
Her smile looked forced.
“Marcus, can we talk privately?””
He stood.
“Whatever you need to say, you can say here.””
She glanced at me.
“It's between husband and wife.””
My father shook his head.
“Not anymore.””
Denise set the glasses down.
“Fine. I think you're making a terrible mistake.””
“Which mistake?””
“Allowing Nia to turn this into some kind of family emergency.””
I stood up.
“I didn't ask anybody to burn my dress.””
Denise looked at me sharply.
“Watch your tone.””
My father stepped forward.
“Don't speak to her that way.””
Denise stared at him.
“Are you serious?””
“Completely.””
She laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“You have changed, Marcus.””
“No. I think I'm finally paying attention.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?””
He looked toward the house.
“It means I want the envelope.””
Denise went still.
Just for a second.
But I noticed.
So did my father.
He walked past her and entered the house.
I followed him.
The office was at the end of the hallway.
It had dark wooden shelves, a large desk, and photographs from his business projects.
My father opened the top drawer.
He moved aside a few folders.
Then he stopped.
“It's gone.””
Denise appeared in the doorway.
“I told you I don't know anything about it.””
My father didn't turn.
“Then you won't mind telling me who had access to this room.””
“Marcus, you're being paranoid.””
He opened another drawer.
A small stack of bank statements lay inside.
He picked them up.
I watched his face change as he read the first page.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
He turned the page.
Then another.
Finally, he looked at Denise.
“Did you authorize these transfers?””
She frowned.
“Which transfers?””
He placed the papers on the desk.
“Forty-eight thousand dollars.””
My stomach tightened.
Denise laughed nervously.
“That's a business expense.””
“No. It's a transfer from our joint account to an account I don't recognize.””
“I was handling some household expenses.””
“Forty-eight thousand dollars?””
She folded her arms.
“You told me I could manage the money.””
“I gave you access to pay bills. I didn't give you permission to move money into an account under someone else's name.””
Monique appeared behind her mother.
“What are you talking about?””
My father picked up the statement.
“Do you know anything about this?””
Monique glanced at Denise.
It was quick.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
Denise stepped in front of her.
“Don't involve Monique in your financial problems.””
My father stared at her.
“I'm asking a question.””
“And I'm telling you to stop treating us like criminals.””
He placed the statement down.
“Then explain the account.””
Denise's face hardened.
“I don't have to explain every decision I make to you.””
My father nodded slowly.
“That's what I thought.””
He took photographs of the documents with his phone.
Then he called Raymond again.
I stood near the bookshelf, trying to understand what was happening.
A burned graduation gown had somehow become a missing envelope and forty-eight thousand dollars.
My father looked at me.
“Sweetheart, go upstairs for a moment.””
“Dad, I want to know what's happening.””
He hesitated.
Then he pulled out a chair.
“Sit down.””
I did.
He rested both hands on the desk.
“Several months ago, I started reviewing our finances. There were transfers I couldn't explain. I asked Denise about them, and she said she was paying expenses for the house.””
“Was she?””
“Some of them. Not all.””
Denise shook her head.
“This is unbelievable.””
He continued.
“I asked Raymond to review the records. He prepared an envelope with copies of everything, along with documents related to the company and our family accounts.””
I looked at the empty drawer.
“And now it's missing?””
“Yes.””
Monique rolled her eyes.
“Maybe you misplaced it.””
My father turned.
“Perhaps.””
He paused.
“But there's something else.””
He reached into the desk and removed a small white folder.
“I made a copy.””
Denise's expression changed.
My father opened it.
Inside were several printed emails.
He read one silently.
Then he turned the page.
His fingers tightened around the paper.
“Denise.””
She didn't respond.
“Who is Calvin?””
The room became completely silent.
Monique looked down.
Denise's mouth opened slightly.
Then she said, “He's a friend.””
My father nodded.
“A friend who receives transfers from our joint account?””
“He helped me with something.””
“What?””
She didn't answer.
My father placed the email on the desk.
“Because according to this message, you were planning to move more money before the end of the month.””
Denise reached for the paper.
He pulled it away.
“Give me that.””
“No.””
“Marcus!””
“Not until I understand what I'm looking at.””
Monique suddenly spoke.
“Mom, just tell him.””
Denise turned.
“Be quiet.””
My heart began pounding.
My stepsister had never sounded uncertain before.
Now she looked terrified.
Raymond arrived twenty minutes later.
He was a tall man in his late fifties with glasses and a leather briefcase. He had known my father for more than a decade.
He greeted me first.
“I'm sorry about your gown, Nia.””
“Thank you.””
Then he entered the office.
My father explained what had happened.
Raymond examined the statements and emails.
After several minutes, he closed the folder.
“Marcus, I think we need to discuss this somewhere private.””
My father looked at Denise.
“We are discussing it here.””
Raymond hesitated.
Then he looked toward Monique.
“Perhaps not with everyone present.””
Denise immediately stood.
“Exactly. This has nothing to do with my daughter.””
Raymond adjusted his glasses.
“I'm afraid it may.””
Monique's face drained of color.
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
Raymond opened his briefcase and removed another document.
He placed it on the desk.
My father read the first page.
Then he slowly lowered it.
“Denise,” he said quietly.
“What?””
“Tell me this isn't true.””
She stared at the document.
And then, for the first time since I had known her, my stepmother began to cry.
But the next words out of her mouth weren't an apology.
May you like
They were a warning.
“Marcus, if you tell Nia what you found, you're going to destroy this family.””
