Chapter 2: The Secret My Mother Left Behind
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
My aunt Rochelle was still on the screen.
My father stared at her.
Denise stood behind him, gripping the back of the sofa so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
"What documents?"" Dad finally asked.
Rochelle looked down.
Then she looked back at him.
"The documents Angela gave me before she died.""
Dad shook his head.
"Rochelle, what are you talking about?""
"Five years ago, I promised my sister I would protect Malik if anything happened.""
"Protect him from what?""
My aunt's eyes moved toward Denise.
"From someone who wanted to take away everything his mother worked for.""
Denise stepped forward.
"This is ridiculous.""
Rochelle didn't even look at her.
"Marcus, listen to me carefully. Angela didn't leave that house the way you think she did.""
My father's face tightened.
"What does that mean?""
"Do you remember the estate meeting after her funeral?""
Dad nodded slowly.
"Of course.""
"Do you remember signing the paperwork?""
"Yes.""
"Did you ever read the entire document?""
Silence.
Denise immediately interrupted.
"Marcus, this woman has been bitter for years. She's always hated me.""
Rochelle finally turned toward her.
"I didn't hate you, Denise. I barely knew you. But I knew Angela, and I knew she was terrified of what might happen to Malik.""
My heart began pounding.
I looked at my father.
"Dad, what's going on?""
He raised one hand.
"Give me a minute, son.""
I stepped away from the suitcase.
Rochelle continued.
"Angela owned a substantial interest in the property before she died. She also established a trust for Malik.""
Dad frowned.
"Angela and I bought the house together.""
"Exactly. But the legal ownership arrangements were more complicated than you remember.""
Denise laughed.
"Here we go. Another attempt to make this family look like criminals.""
Rochelle's voice became sharp.
"Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about when the attorney reviews the records.""
My father turned toward her.
"What attorney?""
"Harold Bennett. Angela's estate attorney.""
Dad's expression changed.
He knew the name.
I had heard it before.
Harold Bennett had attended my mother's funeral. He had given my father a folder of documents and explained that certain financial matters would need to be reviewed when I became an adult.
I remembered asking Dad about it once.
He told me it was nothing important.
Rochelle leaned closer to her camera.
"Marcus, Angela specifically instructed Harold to contact Malik when he turned seventeen if certain conditions were met.""
My heart skipped.
"What conditions?""
Rochelle looked at me.
"That someone attempted to remove you from the family home or interfere with your inheritance.""
I looked at my suitcase.
Then at Denise.
Her face had gone completely blank.
Dad slowly turned toward her.
"Did you know about this?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
Rochelle gave a bitter laugh.
"Really?""
Denise's voice rose.
"I don't know what you're talking about!""
"Then explain why you contacted Harold Bennett's office last month.""
My father froze.
Denise looked at Rochelle.
"What?""
"You heard me. I know you called his office.""
Dad turned.
"Denise?""
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
"Marcus, I was handling household matters.""
"What household matters require contacting my late wife's attorney?""
She straightened her blouse.
"I don't have to explain every phone call I make.""
Dad stared at her.
For the first time, I saw uncertainty in his face.
He looked toward me.
"Malik, let me see that recording.""
I handed him my phone.
He watched the video from beginning to end.
Denise stood motionless.
The audio was unmistakable.
Her insults.
Her accusations.
Her threat.
When the video ended, Dad looked up.
"Why did you tell me he threatened you?""
Denise shook her head.
"Marcus, you don't understand how difficult he has become.""
"Answer my question.""
"He was aggressive!""
"That's not what I asked.""
"He raised his voice!""
"Did he threaten you?""
She looked away.
Dad repeated the question.
"Did my son threaten you?""
Denise swallowed.
"I felt threatened.""
My father closed his eyes.
I had never seen him look so exhausted.
"That's not an answer.""
She suddenly began crying.
Not the quiet kind.
The dramatic kind.
She covered her face.
"Of course. You're all against me. I knew this would happen one day.""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Denise, stop.""
"No, Marcus. I've spent five years trying to make this family work. Five years of being disrespected by a boy who refuses to accept me.""
I felt something rise inside me.
"Nobody asked you to replace my mother.""
She spun toward me.
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about!""
I looked at my father.
"I never asked her to be my mother. I just wanted her to stop treating me like I didn't belong here.""
Dad lowered his head.
He didn't answer.
Rochelle interrupted.
"Marcus, this isn't about whether Denise likes Malik. It's about what Angela left him.""
Dad looked at the screen.
"What do you want me to do?""
"Call Harold. Today.""
Denise immediately stepped forward.
"That's unnecessary.""
My father looked at her.
"Why?""
"Because this is a private family matter.""
"Apparently, it isn't.""
He walked toward his office.
Denise followed.
"Marcus, wait.""
He opened the office door.
"Not now.""
The door closed.
I remained in the living room with Rochelle.
She looked at me carefully.
"Baby, are you okay?""
I tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
Then my eyes filled.
"I don't know where I'm supposed to go.""
Her expression softened.
"You're not going anywhere tonight.""
"But Dad—"
"Your father can figure out what he has done. You are not sleeping on anybody's couch because someone decided to lie about you.""
I wiped my face.
"What's in those documents?""
Rochelle hesitated.
"Something your mother wanted you to know when you were old enough.""
"What?""
"That the life you're living now was never supposed to depend on whether Marcus stayed married to Denise.""
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
She sighed.
"Your mother made arrangements for your future. And she made sure nobody could take them away.""
The office door opened.
Dad came out holding his phone.
"Harold is coming tomorrow morning.""
Denise's expression tightened.
"Tomorrow?""
"Yes.""
"Marcus, this is unnecessary.""
He looked at her.
"Then tomorrow should be easy.""
She folded her arms.
"What exactly do you expect to accomplish?""
Dad glanced at the suitcase.
"First, I'm going to find out why I almost threw my son out of this house because of a story you told me.""
Denise stared at him.
Then she walked upstairs.
I thought the worst was over.
I was wrong.
Later that evening, I sat in my bedroom with my phone in my hand.
My room looked exactly as I had left it.
Basketball trophies.
School certificates.
A photograph of my mother holding me after my first game.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
A few minutes later, someone knocked.
"Malik?""
Dad.
"Come in.""
He opened the door.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he looked at the suitcase beside my desk.
"Leave that there.""
I nodded.
He sat in the chair.
"I'm sorry about what happened downstairs.""
I looked at him.
"Why didn't you ask me what happened before you believed her?""
He rubbed his hands together.
"I was angry.""
"At me?""
He looked down.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because I thought you had threatened my wife.""
"But you didn't ask me.""
He didn't answer.
I swallowed.
"Dad, if I hadn't had that recording, would you have let me leave?""
His face tightened.
"I don't know.""
That answer hurt.
More than I expected.
I turned toward the window.
"Mom would've asked me.""
Dad looked at the photograph on my desk.
"I know.""
"She would've listened.""
He closed his eyes.
"Malik, I made a mistake.""
I wanted to forgive him.
I really did.
But forgiveness wasn't something I could produce just because he finally looked sorry.
"Can you tell me something?"" I asked.
"Anything.""
"Did Mom really leave me something?""
He nodded slowly.
"Your aunt seems to think so.""
"Did you know?""
He hesitated.
"I knew there was a trust. I didn't know all the details.""
"Why?""
"Your mother handled most of the legal planning.""
I looked at him.
"Then why did you never tell me?""
He didn't have an answer.
Before he could say anything else, my phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
I opened the message.
<escape>Malik, this is Harold Bennett. I need to speak with you privately before tomorrow's meeting. Your mother's estate contains information your father may not know. Please do not tell Denise that I am contacting you.</escape>
I read it twice.
Then I looked at my father.
He was watching me.
"Who is it?""
I slowly turned the screen toward him.
His eyes moved across the message.
Then his face changed.
"Why would he say not to tell Denise?""
I didn't know.
But I was beginning to understand something.
May you like
Whatever my mother had left behind, Denise was terrified of it.
And tomorrow morning, we were going to find out why.
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