Chapter 5: My Stepson Finally Spoke
I called Jordan the next morning.
He didn't answer.
I tried again.
Nothing.
At noon, I sent him a message.
Jordan, I need to talk to you about what happened with the laptop. You're not in trouble. I just want the truth.
Twenty minutes later, he replied.
Can we talk without Mom knowing?
I stared at the message.
Then I called him.
He answered almost immediately.
"Hello?""
"Jordan, it's Marcus.""
"I know.""
"Are you somewhere private?""
He hesitated.
"I'm in my room.""
"Okay. I want you to know I'm not calling to accuse you of anything.""
There was silence.
Then he said, "I know Malik didn't break the laptop.""
I closed my eyes.
"Why did you let your mother blame him?""
Jordan breathed heavily.
"Because she told me not to say anything.""
"Why?""
"She said it would make everything worse.""
"For whom?""
"For her.""
I leaned back.
"Jordan, I need you to explain what happened.""
He took a long breath.
"Brianna spilled juice on the laptop. I was sitting beside her. Malik came in and tried to help.""
"And Denise blamed Malik?""
"Yes.""
"Did she know Brianna spilled it?""
"Yes.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Mom said Malik needed to learn responsibility.""
I felt anger rising again.
"Responsibility for something he didn't do?""
Jordan's voice became quieter.
"She said he was already getting too much attention from you.""
I sat up.
"What?""
"She said you always felt sorry for him because his real mom died. She said he used that to get whatever he wanted.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
My son had lost his mother.
And my wife had apparently turned that loss into something shameful.
Jordan continued.
"She said if Malik kept getting special treatment, Brianna and I would never feel like we belonged here.""
I shook my head.
"Jordan, did Malik ever make you feel unwelcome?""
"No.""
"Did he ever treat you badly?""
"No.""
"Then why did your mother keep saying those things?""
He didn't answer.
I heard him sniff.
"Because she was angry.""
"At Malik?""
"At you.""
I frowned.
"Why me?""
Jordan lowered his voice.
"Because you kept giving Malik things.""
"What things?""
"Your time. Your attention. Money for school. You went to his games.""
I stared at the wall.
"Jordan, I went to your basketball games too.""
"I know.""
"And I took Brianna shopping last month.""
"I know.""
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, "Mom doesn't see it that way.""
I understood something important.
Denise had been telling her children a different story.
She had made them believe Malik was the reason they weren't getting enough.
And she had used that belief to justify treating him differently.
"Jordan, did your mother ever tell you to keep things from me?""
"Yes.""
"Like what?""
He hesitated.
"She told us not to talk about the chores.""
"What else?""
"She said if Grandma Evelyn asked questions, we should tell her Malik was being difficult.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you do that?""
"Once.""
His voice cracked.
"I told Grandma Malik was lazy.""
I didn't speak.
"I'm sorry," Jordan whispered.
I looked down at my hands.
"Thank you for telling me.""
"Are you going to tell Mom?""
"I won't repeat this conversation to hurt you. But I need the truth to protect everyone.""
He took a breath.
"There's something else.""
"What?""
Jordan's voice dropped.
"Mom has been keeping money from the household account.""
I frowned.
"What money?""
"She said it was for emergencies.""
"How much?""
"I don't know. But I saw a bank statement.""
"Where?""
"In her bedroom.""
I stood.
"Jordan, why were you looking at her bank statement?""
"She asked me to bring her some papers from the dresser. I saw it by accident.""
"What did you see?""
He paused.
"Several transfers.""
"To whom?""
"I don't remember the name. But she said she was helping someone.""
I felt a familiar tension in my chest.
"Did she tell you who?""
"No.""
Then Jordan said something else.
"Marcus?""
"Yes?""
"Please don't send us away.""
I stopped moving.
"What?""
"I know Mom did bad things. But I don't want you to think Brianna and I are bad people too.""
My voice softened.
"Jordan, you're a teenager. You're not responsible for your mother's decisions.""
He was quiet.
"Malik is my brother," he whispered.
"I don't want him to hate me.""
I looked toward the window.
"Then start by telling him the truth.""
After the call, I drove to my mother's house.
Malik was sitting on the couch watching television.
Evelyn was in the kitchen preparing lunch.
I sat beside him.
"How are you doing?""
"Okay.""
"Can I ask you something?""
He nodded.
"Do you hate Jordan and Brianna?""
He looked surprised.
"No.""
"Even after everything?""
He shrugged.
"They didn't make the rules.""
I studied his face.
"Jordan told me he was sorry.""
Malik looked down.
"Did he?""
"Yes.""
For the first time, Malik smiled.
"That's good.""
I put an arm around his shoulders.
"You're a better person than I was at sixteen.""
He laughed softly.
"Probably.""
My mother called us into the kitchen.
Lunch was ready.
As we ate, Malik told me about school.
He talked about a math test, a basketball game, and a science project.
For almost an hour, he sounded like the teenager I remembered.
Then my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice spoke.
"Mr. Johnson? My name is Patricia Wells. I'm calling from your bank.""
I frowned.
"Is something wrong?""
"We've noticed several unusual transfers from your joint household account.""
My stomach tightened.
"How many?""
"Fourteen transfers over the past six months.""
I stood from the table.
"What amounts?""
She gave me the figures.
The total was over thirty thousand dollars.
I gripped the edge of the counter.
"Where was the money sent?""
"To an account under the name of Denise Johnson.""
I closed my eyes.
"She's my wife.""
"Yes, sir. That's why we're contacting you.""
I lowered my voice.
"Was the money transferred without authorization?""
"Your wife is listed as an authorized account holder. However, several transactions were flagged because of their frequency and destination.""
I stared at the kitchen wall.
"Can you tell me when the first transfer happened?""
She gave me a date.
It was three months after Denise and I got married.
I thanked her and ended the call.
My mother looked at me.
"What happened?""
I shook my head.
"Someone has been moving money out of our household account.""
Malik looked up.
"Denise?""
I didn't answer.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message had arrived.
It was from Denise.
We need to talk tonight. I've decided it's time you knew the truth about Angela.
I stared at the screen.
Angela.
My first wife.
Malik's mother.
I read the message again.
Then another message appeared.
There are things about her death that you never understood.
My hand tightened around the phone.
I looked at Malik.
He had noticed my expression.
"Dad? What's wrong?""
I forced myself to breathe.
"Nothing you need to worry about right now, son.""
But I knew that wasn't true.
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Because Denise had just brought the one person into this nightmare who could no longer defend herself.
And whatever she was about to tell me about Angela, I had a terrible feeling it was going to change everything I thought I knew about my family.
