Chapter 2: The Money in the Envelope
For several seconds, I couldn't make sense of what Tasha had said.
The Highlander sat behind us, gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. My stepfather had moved closer to the porch, speaking rapidly to my mother while our neighbors pretended not to watch.
“What do you mean it wasn't supposed to be mine?”” I asked.
Tasha didn't answer.
She turned the paper toward me.
At the top was the name of a financial institution, followed by an account number with most of the digits concealed. Beneath it were several lines of transaction information.
My eyes stopped at the amount.
$49,800.00.
The recipient was a local automobile dealership.
The date was six days earlier.
And the account holder was listed as Tasha Reed.
I read it twice.
“This is your account?””
She nodded.
“But why would your account pay for my car?””
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
I took the notice carefully, afraid that pulling it from her hands might somehow make the numbers change.
The transaction description included a reference to a trust account.
I knew Tasha's mother had died when Tasha was twelve. I also knew that her mother, Elise, had left her some money. I'd heard my grandmother mention it once during a family dinner, but Marcus had immediately changed the subject.
I'd assumed the money was small.
Maybe enough for college books.
Maybe enough to help Tasha get started after graduation.
I'd never imagined it could buy a car.
“Tasha,” I whispered, “is this your college money?””
She pressed her knuckles against her mouth.
“It was supposed to be.””
A cold feeling spread through my chest.
I looked back at the house.
Marcus had stopped talking.
He was watching us.
When he saw the paper in my hand, his entire posture changed. He walked down the driveway, his shoes striking the pavement with deliberate force.
“Give that to me,” he said.
I folded the notice against my chest.
“No.””
“Maya, this doesn't concern you.””
“You bought my car with her money.””
“That's not what happened.””
“Then explain the forty-nine thousand eight hundred dollars.””
He glanced toward the neighbors.
“Not here.””
“Why not here? You wanted everyone to see my birthday gift.””
My mother rushed toward us.
“Lower your voice!””
I turned on her.
“Did you know?””
She stopped.
That hesitation told me more than any answer could have.
“Mom?””
Nia pressed her lips together.
“Your stepfather is handling a complicated financial matter.””
I stared at her.
“A complicated financial matter?””
“It's not as simple as you're making it sound.””
“Then make it simple.””
She looked at Marcus.
He gave her a warning glance.
For one brief moment, my mother seemed less like the confident woman who had slapped me and more like someone waiting for permission to speak.
Then she recovered.
“The money was sitting in an account. Marcus believed it could be used to help the family.””
Tasha made a small, wounded sound.
“Help the family?””
My mother turned toward her.
“Don't twist my words.””
“That's my money, Mom.””
“You're an adult. You should understand that families sometimes have to make difficult decisions.””
Tasha stared at her.
“Did you ask me?””
Nobody answered.
I looked at Marcus.
“Did you ask her?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“The money was invested for her future. I was going to replace it.””
“When?””
“When I could.””
“With what?””
He stepped closer.
“Enough.””
I didn't move.
“No. You don't get to tell us enough anymore.””
His face reddened.
“You have no idea what it takes to keep this household running. Your mother and I have bills, responsibilities, expenses you know nothing about.””
“Then why did you tell Tasha you couldn't afford eight hundred dollars for college?””
“Because she needed to learn that money doesn't grow on trees.””
I held up the notice.
“But apparently it grows into a fifty-thousand-dollar SUV.””
One of the neighbors gasped.
Marcus turned toward them.
“Everyone needs to go home. This is a private family issue.””
Mrs. Collins hesitated.
“Marcus, perhaps you should explain—”
“Now, please.””
The command was quiet, but it carried enough force to end the conversation.
One by one, the neighbors began leaving.
I watched Mr. Harris retrieve his phone from the porch railing. He glanced at me before walking away, and I saw sympathy in his expression.
It made my throat tighten.
Because I didn't want sympathy.
I wanted an explanation.
I wanted to know why adults who claimed to love us could stand in front of a crowd and celebrate one daughter with money stolen from the other.
Tasha reached for the paper.
I handed it back.
Her fingers curled around it as though it were the only proof she had that she wasn't imagining what had happened.
“Dad,” she said.
Marcus flinched at the word.
Not because she had called him Dad.
Because of the way she said it.
“Tell me you were going to put the money back.””
He opened his mouth.
She waited.
My mother looked at the ground.
Finally, Marcus said, “I made a decision I believed was best for everyone.””
Tasha's eyes filled.
“That's not what I asked.””
“You're young. You don't understand how these things work.””
“I understand that my name is on that account.””
“Your mother appointed me to manage it.””
“Manage it,” Tasha repeated.
“Not spend it.””
He shook his head impatiently.
“Your mother trusted me to make responsible choices.””
“My mother trusted you to take care of me.””
The words seemed to hit him.
For the first time that afternoon, he looked away from Tasha.
I had always thought of Marcus as the kind of man who could justify anything if he spoke calmly enough. He could turn cruelty into discipline, selfishness into responsibility, and favoritism into a lesson about gratitude.
But even he couldn't make Tasha's sentence disappear.
She stepped backward.
“How much is left?””
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“We'll discuss that later.””
“How much?””
“Tasha, go inside.””
“Is there anything left?””
He said nothing.
Tasha's knees seemed to weaken.
I caught her elbow.
“Sit down,” I whispered.
“Don't tell me to sit down.””
Her voice cracked, and she immediately covered her mouth.
I released her arm.
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I worked until midnight on my birthday because you said we couldn't afford my college deposit,” she said.
“I skipped lunch for two weeks to save money for my application fees. I sold the necklace Mom left me because I thought I needed to stop asking you for help.””
Marcus's expression shifted.
“What necklace?””
“The silver one.””
Tasha laughed bitterly.
“You said I was being sentimental. You said jewelry wasn't going to pay my tuition.””
My stomach twisted.
Elise's necklace had been the only thing Tasha wore every day. I'd seen it around her neck so often that I'd stopped noticing it.
Until she came home one evening without it.
When I'd asked where it was, she'd told me she'd put it somewhere safe.
She'd lied to me.
And I'd been too busy enjoying my own life to ask again.
“Why didn't you tell me?”” I whispered.
She looked at me.
“Tell you what? That I was selling pieces of my life to afford an education while you were getting a car?””
I had no answer.
Marcus stepped forward.
“That's enough drama for one day.””
Tasha turned toward him.
“Drama?””
She held up the notice.
“You took my mother's money.””
“I borrowed it.””
“Without asking.””
“I was going to repay it.””
“With what?””
He stared at her.
She nodded slowly, as though his silence had finally confirmed something she had suspected for years.
“You don't have it, do you?””
My mother immediately intervened.
“Marcus has worked hard for this family. You should show him some respect.””
Tasha looked at her in disbelief.
“Would you say that if it were Maya's money?””
My mother's mouth tightened.
“That's a ridiculous comparison.””
“Why?””
“Because Maya is a minor, and this was a birthday gift.””
“Paid for with my money!””
The shout burst out of Tasha so suddenly that even Marcus took a step back.
She was crying now, but she wasn't trying to hide it.
“You made me feel guilty for needing money for school while you spent almost fifty thousand dollars on a car for her. Then you stood there smiling while everyone watched her open it.””
Mom's face hardened.
“We did not force you to work at the grocery store.””
“No. You just made sure I had no other choice.””
Tasha turned and walked toward the sidewalk.
I followed her.
This time, Marcus didn't immediately call us back.
We made it half a block before she stopped beneath a large oak tree. Cars passed on the street, their tires hissing against the pavement.
She sat on the low stone wall surrounding the tree and buried her face in her hands.
I sat beside her.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then I whispered, “I'm sorry.””
She gave a small, exhausted laugh.
“You keep saying that.””
“Because I keep finding things I should have apologized for.””
She looked at me.
“You didn't steal the money.””
“No. But I benefited from everything they did with it.””
I stared at my hands.
“When they bought me things, I never asked why you didn't get the same things. I told myself you were older, or that you liked working, or that you didn't care about expensive stuff.””
“I don't care about expensive stuff.””
“I know.””
She looked down at the notice.
“I care about having a chance.””
That sentence broke something inside me.
Tasha had never wanted my birthday parties or designer clothes. She wanted to go to college without worrying about every dollar. She wanted to stop pretending she wasn't disappointed. She wanted a family in which asking for help didn't feel like committing a crime.
And the money her mother had left her was supposed to make that possible.
I leaned forward.
“What do we do now?””
Tasha wiped her face.
“I don't know.””
“Can we get the money back?””
She shook her head.
“It's not that simple. Dad was the trustee. He had access to the account.””
“Then we find out exactly what he did.””
She stared at me.
“Maya, this isn't just about the car.””
“I know.””
“No, you don't.”” Her voice softened, which somehow made the words hurt more.
“If he used the money for this, what else did he use it for?””
I thought of the college deposit.
The missing necklace.
The years of small requests Marcus had rejected while insisting the family budget was tight.
My chest tightened.
“You think this happened before?””
Tasha looked at the paper again.
“I think Mom left me something for a reason. And I think Dad has been telling me stories about that money for years.””
A car horn sounded behind us.
We both turned.
My mother had pulled up beside the curb in her silver sedan. Marcus sat in the passenger seat, his expression unreadable.
Nia lowered the window.
“Get in the car. Both of you.””
Tasha stood.
“No.””
My mother gripped the steering wheel.
“I'm not asking.””
“Then you can drive home alone.””
Marcus leaned across her.
“Tasha, don't make a permanent mistake because you're upset.””
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then she held up the cream-colored envelope.
“You already made one.””
She turned away.
My mother drove off with a sharp burst of acceleration.
Tasha watched the car disappear around the corner.
Then she opened the envelope again and removed a second sheet of paper that had been folded behind the bank notice.
I hadn't noticed it before.
“What is that?”” I asked.
Her face changed as she read the first paragraph.
“I've never seen this before.””
“What does it say?””
She swallowed hard.
Then she handed it to me.
It was a letter from an attorney, dated nearly a year earlier.
The final paragraph contained one sentence that made my blood run cold.
If you suspect that funds have been withdrawn from the trust without your authorization, contact our office immediately. Your father's authority as trustee may be subject to review.
Beneath the paragraph was a handwritten note.
May you like
The handwriting belonged to Tasha's mother.
And the note was addressed to her daughter.
