Chapter 8: The Person Who Was Watching Isaiah
I couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel’s words.
Someone inside the family was watching Isaiah.
Not helping him.
Not protecting him.
Watching him.
There was a difference.
A dangerous difference.
When we got back to my house, Malcolm immediately checked on Isaiah.
He was sitting on the living room floor, building a tower with old wooden blocks.
For a moment, Malcolm just stood there.
Watching his son.
Like he was seeing him for the first time.
“Dad?””
Isaiah looked up.
Malcolm forced a smile.
“Hey, buddy.””
“You look sad.””
The innocence in his voice nearly broke me.
Malcolm sat beside him.
“I’m okay.””
Isaiah studied his face.
“My mom used to say grown-ups lie when they’re scared.””
Neither of us spoke.
Because Emily had taught him that.
And she had been right.
Later that night, after Isaiah went to bed, Malcolm and I searched through Emily’s old belongings.
We needed answers.
Not guesses.
Not theories.
Answers.
In a small box of photographs, I found something strange.
A picture from three months before Emily died.
It showed a family dinner.
Everyone was there.
Malcolm.
Tasha.
Daniel.
Me.
And Emily.
At first, it looked normal.
Until I noticed Emily.
She wasn’t smiling.
She was looking past the camera.
At someone.
I turned the photo over.
There was writing on the back.
Emily’s handwriting.
“Trust actions, not words.””
I showed Malcolm.
“What does that mean?””
He stared at the picture.
“I don’t know.””
Then his phone rang.
Tasha.
He almost didn’t answer.
But he did.
“What do you want?””
I could hear her crying through the speaker.
“Malcolm, you need to come here.””
“Why?””
“Because someone broke into the house.””
My body went cold.
“What?””
“The drawers are open. Someone searched everything.””
Malcolm stood immediately.
“Is Isaiah okay?””
“Yes.””
“Stay there.””
We drove to Tasha’s house.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, everything looked disturbed.
Cabinets open.
Papers scattered.
Drawers emptied.
But nothing expensive was missing.
No television.
No jewelry.
No electronics.
Only documents.
Only papers.
Malcolm looked around.
“They weren’t looking for valuables.””
I nodded.
“They were looking for something.””
Tasha stood near the stairs.
She looked terrified.
For the first time, I believed she was actually afraid.
“Did you call the police?”” Malcolm asked.
She shook her head.
“I didn’t know what to tell them.””
“The truth.””
Her eyes filled.
“The truth is I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.””
I looked at her.
“Where is the wooden box?””
Her face changed.
“What box?””
“The one Emily hid.””
Tasha became very quiet.
Then she whispered:
“You found it?””
I stepped closer.
“You knew about it?””
She looked down.
“I saw Emily hiding something.””
“When?””
“Before she died.””
Malcolm froze.
“You saw her?””
Tasha nodded slowly.
“She was scared.””
My voice softened.
“What did she say?””
Tasha wiped her eyes.
“She told me she knew someone had been taking money.””
“Did she say who?””
“No.””
“Then why hide the truth?””
Tasha looked at me.
“Because she asked me to.””
The room went silent.
Malcolm stared at her.
“What?””
“She came to me.””
“No.””
“Yes.””
Tasha’s voice broke.
“She said she needed someone to watch Isaiah if anything happened.””
My anger returned.
“Then why did you take his money?””
Tasha started crying.
“I made mistakes.””
“Mistakes don’t empty accounts.””
“I know.””
She covered her face.
“I was drowning.””
Malcolm looked disgusted.
“You knew Emily trusted you.””
“I know.””
“You knew Isaiah was her whole world.””
“I know!””
Her voice echoed through the house.
Then she said something that made us all stop.
“But I wasn’t the only one taking money.””
The room became silent.
“What?”” Malcolm whispered.
Tasha looked terrified.
“Daniel wasn’t the only person Emily suspected.””
My heart raced.
“Who else?””
Tasha looked toward the stairs.
Then lowered her voice.
“She thought the person closest to Isaiah was hiding something.””
Malcolm frowned.
“Who?””
Tasha looked directly at him.
And for a moment, I thought she would say his name.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she whispered:
“Your father.””
I froze.
“My father?””
Malcolm’s face changed.
“My dad has been dead for ten years.””
Tasha shook her head.
“No.””
She pointed toward the papers scattered across the floor.
“Emily found old documents.””
“What documents?””
Her voice trembled.
“Documents showing Isaiah’s inheritance was connected to something much bigger.””
I stepped closer.
“What?””
Tasha looked at us.
“A trust.””
Malcolm stared.
“What trust?””
May you like
She swallowed.
“The one created before Isaiah was even born.””