Chapter 7 - “Did You Sell My Name Too?”
Maya looked at Simone, not me.
“Did you sell my name too?”
The question was so quiet I almost broke.
Simone stepped toward her.
“No, sweetheart.”
Maya backed away.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Maya—”
“You took Mom’s necklace.”
Simone stopped.
My daughter’s eyes were red, but she didn’t cry.
“You returned my clothes. You returned my shoes. You locked my stuff downstairs. You told me Dad would get tired of me if I kept costing money.”
I turned to Simone.
“You told her what?”
Maya kept going.
“You said Caleb and Zoe deserved more because they still had both their parents.”
Caleb appeared behind Maya.
Zoe was with him.
Simone looked horrified.
“Who brought you home?”
“Our neighbor,” Caleb said.
Zoe held her brother’s hand.
Maya looked at them and suddenly seemed ashamed.
“I’m sorry.”
Caleb shook his head.
“You didn’t do anything.”
Simone snapped, “Go upstairs.”
Nobody moved.
“Now.”
Caleb’s voice trembled. “No.”
I had never heard him say that to his mother.
Simone stared at him.
“You do not talk to me like that.”
“You told us not to tell Andre.”
“Caleb.”
“You said Maya already got enough because her mom died.”
Zoe started crying.
“You said if we told, we’d have to go live with Uncle Darius.”
That changed the room.
I stepped closer to the children.
“What did she say about Darius?”
Simone shouted, “Enough!”
Zoe flinched.
I kept my voice low.
“What did she say?”
Caleb answered.
“That he was helping her get money so we could leave.”
Simone went still.
I stared at her.
“Leave where?”
“It was just talk.”
“Leave me?”
“No.”
“Maya?”
She said nothing.
The truth arrived slowly and then all at once.
This wasn’t random stealing.
Simone had been building something.
An exit.
With money diverted from my accounts.
With credit opened in Maya’s name.
With valuables taken from my daughter.
“How long have you been planning to leave?”
“I wasn’t.”
Caleb said, “She packed boxes.”
Simone spun toward him.
“Stop talking!”
I stepped between them.
“Do not yell at him.”
Then Zoe whispered, “They’re in the garage.”
We went outside.
Behind gardening supplies were six taped boxes.
Clothes.
Documents.
Cash.
Jewelry.
A second phone.
And a folder labeled CARTER.
Inside were copies of my business records, bank statements, property documents, and a printout of my life insurance policy.
My hands shook as I flipped through it.
One page had been highlighted.
Beneficiary: Simone Carter.
Maya stood beside me.
“Dad?”
I couldn’t answer.
Because behind the insurance page was a handwritten note.
May you like
Three words.
After Andre signs.
