Chapter 3: The Secret Behind the Transfers
Jordan arrived twenty minutes later.
He walked into the house wearing a navy jacket, carrying a laptop under one arm.
Denise was waiting in the living room.
The moment she saw him, she stood.
"Jordan, thank goodness. Tell Marcus he's being unreasonable.""
Jordan didn't sit down.
"Mom, we need to talk.""
She frowned.
"About what?""
He glanced at me.
"About the money.""
Denise's face changed.
"Not now.""
"Actually, yes. Now.""
I moved toward the sofa.
"Sit down, Jordan.""
He placed his laptop on the coffee table.
Then he looked at Denise.
"Why did you tell Maya that Brianna needed money for an apartment?""
Denise crossed her arms.
"Because she did.""
"Where is the apartment?""
"Her plans changed.""
"That's not what you told me.""
Denise looked at him sharply.
"What?""
Jordan opened his laptop.
"Brianna told me she never asked Maya for money.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
Jordan turned the screen toward me.
It showed a text conversation.
Brianna's name appeared at the top.
*Jordan:* Did you get the money Maya sent?
*Brianna:* What money?
*Jordan:* The $3,200 Mom said she was helping you with.
*Brianna:* I didn't get anything.
I read the messages twice.
Then I looked at Denise.
"Explain.""
She waved a hand.
"That girl doesn't remember everything. She's been distracted lately.""
Jordan shook his head.
"She remembers perfectly well.""
He scrolled down.
Another message appeared.
*Brianna:* Mom told me she was handling some expenses. She said not to worry about it.
I looked up.
"Did you receive the money?""
Denise sighed.
"Marcus, I was managing household expenses.""
"That wasn't my question.""
She stared at the laptop.
Then she said something I wasn't expecting.
"I used some of it to pay the credit cards.""
The room went silent.
"Whose credit cards?"" I asked.
"Mine.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"Why was Maya paying your credit cards?""
"She wasn't. She was helping the family.""
Jordan let out a short laugh.
"Mom, you told me the money came from your savings.""
Denise snapped her head toward him.
"Stay out of this!""
"No. I'm tired of being dragged into things I didn't do.""
I looked between them.
"What else?""
Jordan rubbed his forehead.
"About six months ago, Mom asked me for money because she said the mortgage was behind.""
Denise's face hardened.
"Jordan.""
He ignored her.
"She said you were waiting for a contractor payment and that the bank was threatening foreclosure.""
I stared at him.
"That's impossible.""
"I know that now.""
I leaned forward.
"Our mortgage has never been behind.""
Jordan nodded.
"She told me not to contact you because she didn't want to add stress.""
Denise stood.
"You're both making this sound like some criminal investigation!""
I looked at her.
"How much did you give her?""
Jordan opened another file.
"Four thousand dollars.""
My chest tightened.
"And did she pay you back?""
"No.""
Denise pointed at him.
"You said it was a gift!""
Jordan shook his head.
"I said I would help because you told me the house was in danger.""
I stood.
"Denise, did you tell Jordan we were facing foreclosure?""
She looked away.
"I was worried about finances.""
"Our mortgage is paid automatically every month.""
"I didn't say it wasn't.""
"Then why did you tell him that?""
She picked up a cushion and threw it onto the sofa.
"Because I needed money!""
The confession hung in the room.
Jordan stared at her.
I remained still.
"How much?""
Denise shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"How much money have you taken from the children?""
"I didn't take anything.""
"Then what do you call money they gave you under false pretenses?""
She looked at me.
"You have no idea what it's like being responsible for everyone!""
I almost laughed.
"Responsible?""
I gestured toward the stairs.
"Maya works full-time. Jordan works. Brianna has been living here without paying rent. And somehow, you're the one who needs everybody else's money?""
Denise's face turned red.
"You don't understand.""
"Then help me understand.""
She looked at Jordan.
"You're supposed to be on my side.""
He shook his head.
"Mom, I don't even know what side you're on anymore.""
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Jordan opened another document.
"There's something else.""
Denise immediately moved toward him.
"Close that.""
He pulled the laptop closer.
"What is this, Jordan?"" I asked.
He looked uncomfortable.
"It's a message Mom sent me last month.""
I read the screen.
*Mom:* Don't tell Marcus about the account. He doesn't need to know where every dollar goes.
Below it was another message.
*Mom:* Once Maya moves out, things will be easier. We can finally get the house organized without constantly having to consider her.
I looked up.
"What account?""
Jordan swallowed.
"I don't know. But she mentioned it when she asked me to help her move some money.""
Denise stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
Jordan closed the laptop.
"No, Mom. It isn't.""
He looked at me.
"I think she has another bank account.""
I turned toward Denise.
"Do you?""
She didn't answer.
"Denise?""
She walked toward the kitchen.
I followed her.
"Don't walk away from me.""
She stopped near the counter.
"Marcus, I have spent years supporting this family.""
"With whose money?""
She turned around.
"Your money. My money. It doesn't matter.""
"It matters when you secretly pressure my daughter into paying expenses you invented.""
She shook her head.
"You always make her the victim.""
I stared at her.
"She gave away thousands of dollars because you told her I was too stressed to help.""
Denise's mouth tightened.
"She could have said no.""
"She trusted you.""
"That's her problem.""
I froze.
For a moment, I couldn't believe what I had heard.
"That's her problem?""
Denise looked toward the living room.
Then she spoke more quietly.
"Marcus, you need to understand that Maya has always been the center of your world. Even after you married me, nothing changed. You still make every decision around her.""
I shook my head.
"She lost her mother. I promised her I wouldn't abandon her.""
Denise laughed without humor.
"Exactly. And you made that promise everybody else's burden.""
The words cut deeper than I expected.
I studied her face.
"Is that why you wanted her out?""
She didn't answer.
"Because you think she gets too much attention?""
Denise looked away.
"She should have moved out years ago.""
"Why?""
"Because this was supposed to become our home.""
I stared at her.
"It is our home.""
"No, Marcus. It never has been.""
She looked directly at me.
"Angela's things are everywhere. Her photograph is everywhere. You still talk about her like she's sitting at the table.""
I glanced toward the staircase.
Maya's bedroom was directly above us.
The photograph.
Her mother's clothes.
The little wooden jewelry box Angela had left behind.
Denise continued.
"And every time I try to change something, you tell me Maya isn't ready.""
I took a slow breath.
"That's what this is about?""
She shrugged.
"Maybe.""
I felt the room grow strangely quiet.
Then my phone vibrated.
It was an email from the bank.
A notification about a joint savings account I had opened years earlier.
I had almost forgotten about it.
The account was supposed to hold emergency funds.
I opened the message.
There had been a withdrawal.
Not $3,200.
Not $4,000.
A much larger amount.
I read the figure.
$18,500.
The transfer had been made three weeks earlier.
The recipient account belonged to Denise.
I looked up.
"Did you transfer eighteen thousand five hundred dollars out of our emergency savings?""
Denise's face went pale.
Jordan stood behind me.
"Mom?""
She said nothing.
I opened the transaction details.
There was a reference attached to the transfer.
*Property deposit.*
I slowly turned the phone toward her.
"What property, Denise?""
She stared at the screen.
May you like
Then whispered:
"The house.""
