Chapter 6: The Money My Father Left for My Child
I didn't tell Nia the amount immediately.
Not because I wanted to hide anything from her.
I simply couldn't understand how my mother had managed to access an account that was supposed to be protected.
I called Daniel back.
"Explain exactly what you found.""
He spoke slowly.
"Your father established a trust several years before he died. It was designed to remain untouched until you had your first child. At that point, the trust would provide an inheritance for the child and establish a separate education fund.""
I looked at the bedroom door.
Nia was resting.
"Who manages it?""
"An independent trustee. Your mother was listed as someone who could receive limited information, but she wasn't authorized to withdraw funds.""
"Then how did she attempt the transfer?""
"That's what we're investigating.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"How much money?""
Daniel repeated the figure.
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
Nearly $2.4 million.
My father had apparently built an investment portfolio over decades and placed it inside the trust.
I knew he had been a careful investor.
But I had never known about this.
"Why didn't Dad tell me?""
"According to the preliminary records, he wanted you to receive the information when you became a father. He believed it would give you time to build your own financial stability without depending on an inheritance.""
I stared out the window.
That sounded exactly like him.
My father had always said that money should be a tool, not an identity.
"Send me everything.""
"I will. But Marcus, there's another issue.""
I closed my eyes.
"What now?""
"The attempted transfer was for $450,000.""
I opened my eyes.
"To whom?""
Daniel checked his notes.
"The destination account belongs to a company called Bright Future Family Services.""
I had never heard of it.
"What's that?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
I searched the name on my laptop.
A small website appeared.
It advertised family counseling, childcare consulting, and guardianship support services.
The website looked professionally designed, but something about it felt wrong.
There were no photographs of staff.
No clear business address.
Just a contact form and a telephone number.
I read the description aloud.
"Helping families secure their children's futures.""
Daniel sighed.
"Don't contact them yet.""
"Why?""
"Because I want to know whether they're connected to the person who prepared the guardianship agreement.""
I opened another tab.
The company registration information showed that Bright Future Family Services had been established only five months earlier.
The listed director was someone named Rebecca Cole.
I recognized the name.
Not personally.
But I had seen it somewhere.
I searched my emails.
Then I found an old message from Brielle.
It was from three months earlier.
The subject line read:
Mom's new business idea.
I opened the attachment.
It was a photograph of a business card.
Bright Future Family Services.
Under the logo was a name.
Rebecca Cole.
I forwarded it to Daniel.
"Do you recognize this?""
He replied a minute later.
"Interesting. Don't make assumptions yet. I'll investigate.""
I closed the laptop.
At that moment, Nia walked into the kitchen.
"Who were you talking to?""
"Daniel.""
"More bad news?""
I hesitated.
"There's a trust Dad left.""
She pulled out a chair.
"What kind of trust?""
I sat opposite her.
"An inheritance for our child. Apparently, it's worth about $2.4 million.""
Her eyes widened.
"Marcus...""
"I didn't know about it.""
"Why would your father leave that much money without telling you?""
"He wanted it protected for his first grandchild.""
Nia looked down at her stomach.
"That's beautiful.""
I nodded.
Then I explained the attempted transfer.
Her expression changed.
"Your mother tried to take money from the baby's trust?""
"Apparently.""
"For what?""
"Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.""
Nia stared at me.
"That's why she wanted guardianship.""
The words hung between us.
I hadn't wanted to believe that.
But now the pieces were beginning to fit.
The fake paternity report.
The proposed guardianship.
The hospital calls.
The money.
My mother hadn't simply been trying to interfere in our marriage.
She had been trying to position herself between our child and an inheritance.
Nia took my hand.
"Marcus, do you think Brielle knows?""
"I think she knows more than she's telling us.""
My phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
We found the company director. Her name is Rebecca Cole. She has a connection to Brielle.
I stared at the screen.
"What connection?"" Nia asked.
Before I could answer, another message arrived.
Rebecca is Brielle's former roommate.
I felt my stomach drop.
Brielle had lived with Rebecca during her first year after college.
I remembered the arrangement because I had helped pay the rent.
Daniel called.
"Marcus, I've confirmed that Rebecca Cole's company was registered using an address connected to Brielle.""
I stood.
"Are you saying my sister is involved?""
"I'm saying there's enough overlap that we need to investigate.""
"Can the attempted transfer be stopped?""
"The trustee has placed a temporary restriction on withdrawals. No money has left the trust.""
I exhaled.
"Thank God.""
"There's one more thing. The transfer request wasn't submitted under your mother's name.""
"Whose name?""
"Your father's.""
I froze.
"What?""
"The request included Robert Williams as the authorizing party.""
I gripped the edge of the counter.
"He's dead.""
"I know.""
Daniel continued.
"The document included a digital authorization code. We're checking how it was obtained.""
I looked at Nia.
She had heard enough to understand.
Someone had been impersonating my dead father.
And the person doing it knew about the trust.
"Daniel, I want every record preserved.""
"Already done.""
"Find out who submitted the transfer.""
"We're working on it.""
After the call, I walked into the living room.
I needed air.
I needed silence.
But before I could sit down, my doorbell rang.
I checked the security camera.
Brielle stood outside.
She looked terrible.
Her hair was messy, and she was wearing the same clothes from the previous day.
I opened the door but didn't step aside.
"What do you want?""
She looked past me.
"Is Nia here?""
"Why?""
"I need to speak to her.""
"About what?""
Brielle swallowed.
"About Mom.""
I folded my arms.
"You've had plenty of opportunities to tell the truth.""
"I know.""
"Then tell it now.""
She glanced toward the street.
"Can I come inside?""
"No.""
Her eyes filled.
"Marcus, please. I think Mom is planning something else.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
Brielle took a shaky breath.
"She told me she was going to file something before the baby was born.""
"File what?""
"An emergency petition.""
My blood ran cold.
"For what?""
"Temporary custody.""
I stared at her.
"On what grounds?""
Brielle looked down.
"She has been collecting statements from people who say Nia is unstable.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Who?""
"Some of Mom's friends. Two relatives. And someone from Nia's old workplace.""
I took a step closer.
"Why would someone from her workplace say that?""
Brielle wiped her cheeks.
"Mom told them Nia had been having emotional problems.""
I shook my head.
"That's a lie.""
"I know.""
"Then why did you help her?""
Brielle began sobbing.
"Because she promised she would give me money.""
I stared at my sister.
"What?""
She looked at me.
"She said if the trust was released, she would help me pay off my debts.""
I felt something inside me break.
My own sister had participated in an attempt to take money from my unborn child's inheritance.
"How much did she promise you?""
"One hundred thousand dollars.""
I couldn't speak.
Brielle continued.
"She said it would be easy. She said Nia wouldn't fight because she'd be too overwhelmed after giving birth.""
I looked toward the hallway.
Nia was standing there.
She had heard everything.
Brielle saw her and immediately began crying harder.
"Nia, I'm sorry.""
Nia didn't move.
"You knew?""
Brielle nodded.
"I didn't know how far Mom would go.""
"You knew she was trying to take my baby?""
"I thought it was temporary.""
Nia's voice cracked.
"Temporary for whom?""
Brielle lowered her head.
I stepped toward her.
"Why are you telling us now?""
She looked at me.
"Because Mom told Rebecca to prepare another document.""
"What document?""
Brielle reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
"I took this from her office.""
I accepted it.
The document was a draft petition.
It contained several allegations about Nia's supposed instability, including claims that she had experienced emotional breakdowns and refused necessary medical treatment.
Most of it was fabricated.
But one paragraph made my blood run cold.
It stated that Nia had expressed a desire to leave the child with another family after delivery.
I looked up.
"Who wrote this?""
Brielle shook her head.
"Rebecca.""
I examined the bottom of the page.
There was a signature block.
Diane Williams.
But beneath it was a second name.
A witness.
I read it once.
Then again.
Because it wasn't Brielle's name.
It wasn't Rebecca's either.
It was the name of Nia's older sister.
*CAMILLE CARTER.*
Nia stepped forward.
"That's impossible.""
I turned toward her.
"Do you know about this?""
She shook her head.
"Camille would never do that.""
Brielle looked terrified.
"Mom said Camille had already agreed.""
Nia immediately grabbed her phone.
"She told me she was coming to visit next week.""
I stared at the document.
My mother had somehow involved Nia's own sister in a plan to take control of the baby.
Or she wanted us to believe she had.
Nia dialed Camille.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally, someone answered.
"Hello?""
Nia put the call on speaker.
"Camille?""
"Hey, sis. Is everything okay?""
Nia looked at the document.
"Did you sign something for Diane Williams?""
There was a long silence.
Then Camille answered.
"Who told you about that?""
Nia's face changed.
I reached for her hand.
And before either of us could speak, Camille whispered:
"Please don't let Marcus tell you what he found. There's something about the baby that Diane promised she would never reveal.""
The call disconnected.
Nia stared at her phone.
I looked at Brielle.
She was shaking her head.
"That's not what Mom told me.""
I turned toward my wife.
"What does Camille know?""
Nia slowly lowered herself into the nearest chair.
Then she whispered:
May you like
"Marcus, I think my mother-in-law isn't the only person who has been lying to us.""
And for the first time, I wondered whether the secret surrounding our child had begun long before my mother ever walked through our front door.
