“Monica said if Maya accepted the program and moved away, the trustee might refuse to consider our request.”
I stared at her.
“So you tried to destroy my opportunity to fix your financial mistakes.”
She began shaking her head.
“I thought you could apply again later.”
I felt tears burn my eyes.
“You thought I could just replace four years of work?”
“Maya, please.”
“No.”
My voice broke.
“You didn’t ask me for help. You lied. You tried to control my education. You destroyed my diploma in front of everyone because you thought I was taking money you wanted.”
She looked down.
Dad stood.
“Denise, you need to leave while we sort this out.”
She looked up sharply.
“Marcus—”
“No. I will not allow you to continue hurting our daughter.”
She stared at him.
“You’re choosing her over me?”
He answered without hesitation.
“I’m choosing to protect the child we promised to raise.”
Denise began crying again.
But this time, Dad didn’t change his mind.
She packed a suitcase and left for Aunt Patricia’s house.
Afterward, the house felt painfully quiet.
I sat beside Dad on the couch.
He stared at the wedding photograph above the fireplace.
Then he whispered, “I don’t know who I married.”
I put my arm around him.
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
Then his phone vibrated.
It was a message from Robert.
The financing company had located a copy of the loan application.
Dad opened the attachment.
The application contained his name.
His employment information.
Our home address.
And a signature that appeared to be his.
He stared at it.
Then he slowly shook his head.
“I never signed this.”
I looked at the document.
My stomach turned.
Someone had apparently used my father’s identity to support a loan application.
And the date beside the signature was the same day my mother had told us she was attending a business conference with Monica.
I looked at Dad.
“Do you think Monica did it?”
He swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Then he picked up his phone.
“But I’m going to find out.”
