Chapter 18 - The Account in Maya’s Name
The account held $163,400.
Money stolen from multiple victims had been moved through a custodial account created under Maya’s identity.
Darius had used her as a laundering channel.
If investigators hadn’t found it, Maya might have discovered the account years later and looked guilty on paper.
I sat in Melissa’s office staring at the number.
“One hundred sixty-three thousand dollars attached to a child.”
Melissa nodded.
“The funds are frozen.”
“Can this follow her forever?”
“We’ll clean the record. It will take work, but there is a path.”
I rubbed my face.
Every time I thought the damage had a bottom, another floor opened.
But this time there was a difference.
We knew where the hole was.
We had names.
Documents.
Evidence.
People were finally looking.
For months, Maya had been the only one looking.
That evening, I gave her a choice.
“You can hear what happened with the account, or I can handle it and tell you later.”
She thought for a moment.
“Tell me enough that I’m not imagining worse things.”
So I did.
Simple.
Clear.
No graphic details.
No fake promises.
She listened.
Then she said, “Can they make it look like I didn’t do it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
That was all.
Later, Caleb and Zoe came over with Marcus.
The four kids ordered pizza.
For the first time since the shoe store, I heard laughter in the house.
It felt strange.
Almost disrespectful to the disaster.
Then I realized that was what survival sounded like.
Not speeches.
Not revenge.
Kids laughing while adults filled out forms in the next room.
A week later, prosecutors offered Simone a cooperation agreement.
She would plead to multiple fraud-related charges, identity theft, and assault involving Maya, and testify against Darius.
Her attorney told Melissa the agreement could reduce her sentence.
I had mixed feelings.
Maya didn’t.
“What happens to her is not my job,” she said.
I looked at my daughter.
She was right.
My job was not to punish Simone.
My job was to protect Maya.
That distinction saved me from becoming consumed by rage.
Two months passed.
The company reopened the damaged yard.
Insurance covered much of the fire loss.
My house remained mine.
Maya’s credit record was locked and corrected.
Renee’s locket was finally released from evidence.
I brought it home in a small plastic evidence bag.
Maya stared at it.
“You keep it,” I said.
She shook her head.
“No.”
I was surprised.
“It’s yours.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“I want it somewhere safe until I’m older.”
I nodded.
We placed it together in a safe-deposit box at the bank.
As we left, she slipped her hand into mine.
Then my phone rang.
Detective Rollins.
“Trial date is set.”
“For Darius?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“There’s a problem.”
I stopped walking.
“What problem?”
“One of the key digital files is missing from evidence review.”
My chest tightened.
May you like
“Which file?”
“The audio where Simone talks about your coffee.”
