Chapter 5: The Uncle Who Knew Too Much
My father didn't go downstairs immediately.
He stood beside the closet, holding my mother's notebook, while the knocking continued.
“Adrian?”” the man called again.
“I know you're home.””
Dad looked at me.
“Stay here.””
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Please don't make me stay alone with Monique.””
His expression softened.
“Then stay with Uncle Raymond. I'll come get you as soon as I can.””
“But what if Darius knows something about Mom?””
He looked toward the stairs.
“That's exactly why I need to hear what he has to say.””
He called Raymond and asked him to come inside. A moment later, my uncle appeared at the bedroom door, his face lined with concern.
“I've got her,” Raymond promised.
Dad handed him the notebook.
“Keep this safe. Don't let anyone take it.””
Raymond looked at the cover.
“Is this Eleanor's?””
Dad nodded.
Raymond's expression changed.
“Adrian, what did you find?””
“More questions than answers.””
He squeezed my shoulder, then headed downstairs.
I followed Raymond into the sitting room, where he settled into an armchair beside the window. Through the open doorway, I could see the front hall.
My father opened the door.
A Black man in his early forties stood on the porch. He wore a navy jacket over a pale blue shirt, and his closely trimmed beard had begun to gray around the chin.
He looked tired.
Not the ordinary tiredness of a long drive.
The kind that comes from carrying something for too long.
“Adrian,” he said.
“Darius.””
The two men stared at each other.
“You have some nerve showing up here,” my father said.
Darius lowered his eyes.
“I know.””
“You haven't called in almost two years.””
“I know.””
“You didn't come to the funeral.””
Darius swallowed.
“I know that too.””
My father stepped aside just enough to let him enter.
“Then tell me why you're here.””
Darius walked into the house and stopped when he noticed Raymond and me.
His gaze settled on my face.
“Layla.””
I didn't answer.
He looked as if he wanted to hug me, but he kept his hands at his sides.
“You've grown,” he said.
“That's what happens when people get older.””
Raymond gave a quiet cough that might have been an attempt to hide a laugh.
Darius looked down.
“I deserved that.””
My father closed the front door.
“You have five minutes.””
Darius removed a thick brown envelope from his jacket.
My heart jumped.
It was the kind of envelope I'd imagined when I read my mother's note. Large enough to hold documents, with a folded flap secured by a strip of clear tape.
He held it out.
“Eleanor asked me to keep this until Layla was old enough to understand what it meant.””
Dad didn't take it.
“Why didn't you give it to me?””
“Because she specifically told me not to.””
“She was my wife.””
“And Layla was her daughter.””
My father took one step forward.
“Don't you dare make this about protecting Layla. You left us alone when she needed you most.””
Darius flinched.
“You're right.””
That answer seemed to unsettle Dad more than an argument would have.
Darius continued.
“I was angry with you. I thought you had ignored things Eleanor tried to tell you. I believed you would bury whatever she left behind because it was easier than facing it.””
My father stared at him.
“What things?””
Darius looked toward me.
“Is there somewhere Layla can wait?””
“No,” I said.
Everyone turned.
I stood up from the chair.
“I'm tired of people deciding what I'm allowed to hear about my own mother.””
Darius studied my face for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
“Fair enough.””
He placed the envelope on the coffee table.
“Your mother discovered that someone had been accessing an account connected to her medical care without her permission. She believed the activity was connected to a larger problem, and she wanted proof before she confronted anyone.””
My father frowned.
“What account?””
“I don't know all the details. She wouldn't tell me everything over the phone.””
“Then what do you know?””
Darius pulled a folded sheet of paper from the envelope.
“I know she kept records. I know she made copies. And I know she was frightened enough to ask me to hold the originals.””
He unfolded the sheet.
It contained a list of dates, account numbers partially obscured by black marker, and several handwritten notes.
My father scanned the page.
“What am I looking at?””
“Transactions she didn't recognize.””
“Did she report them?””
“She tried.””
“To whom?””
Darius hesitated.
“Someone at the office handling her insurance and estate paperwork.””
My father looked up sharply.
“Which office?””
Before Darius could answer, Monique appeared at the top of the stairs.
She had changed out of her orange dress and into a cream blouse and dark trousers. Her hair was still perfectly arranged, but her face had gone rigid at the sight of Darius.
“You need to leave,” she said.
Darius turned toward her.
“Hello, Monique.””
“Don't pretend we're friends.””
“I wasn't planning to.””
My father picked up the paper.
“Monique, do you know anything about these transactions?””
She walked down the stairs slowly.
“I know Darius has spent years blaming other people for his own problems.””
“That's not an answer.””
“He has always resented this family.””
Darius laughed once, without humor.
“Is that what you told Eleanor when she asked you about the missing documents?””
Monique stopped on the final step.
“What missing documents?””
“The ones you said you had never seen.””
Her eyes moved to the envelope.
Then to my father.
Then to me.
It was the smallest movement, but I saw it.
She knew exactly what was inside.
Dad saw it too.
“Monique,” he said quietly, “have you seen this envelope before?””
“No.””
Darius reached inside and removed a photograph.
He placed it faceup on the table.
It showed my mother standing outside a medical office, wearing a blue cardigan and holding a folder against her chest. Beside her stood Monique.
They weren't smiling.
On the back, my mother's handwriting read:
The day I asked Monique for the original records.
My father stared at the photograph.
“You told me you barely knew each other before the wedding.””
Monique folded her arms.
“We met through mutual friends.””
“You were with my wife at a medical office.””
“I accompanied her somewhere. That doesn't prove anything.””
“Then explain why she was asking you for records.””
Monique looked at Darius.
“You have no idea what those papers meant.””
“Then tell us.””
She shook her head.
“Not here.””
My father gave a bitter laugh.
“That's all you've said today.””
Darius reached into the envelope again.
“This is why Eleanor wanted the original file protected. Someone made a copy of one page, but the rest disappeared.””
He removed a final sheet and turned it toward my father.
At the top was my mother's name.
Below it were several dates and a typed line marked *AUTHORIZED REPRESENTATIVE*.
My father's eyes moved to the signature.
He looked at Monique.
Then back at the page.
“Why is your name here?””
Monique's lips parted.
For the first time, she looked genuinely cornered.
“I can explain that.””
“Then explain it.””
She glanced at me, and something in her expression changed.
“I signed those papers because Eleanor asked me to.””
Darius shook his head.
“She said you pressured her.””
“That's a lie.””
“Then why did she write that she was afraid of you?””
My father looked at the paper again.
“Afraid of her in what way?””
Darius didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into the envelope and removed a small handwritten note.
The ink had faded, but the words remained clear.
If I cannot tell Adrian the truth myself, make sure he learns why the records were changed.
Dad read it aloud.
Then he looked at Monique.
“What records?””
She took a shaky breath.
“The records that could destroy everything you think you know about Eleanor.””
Before my father could respond, the doorbell rang.
A woman stood outside when he opened the door.
She wore a charcoal suit and carried a leather briefcase. She introduced herself as Denise Walker, an attorney representing Monique.
But she didn't look at Monique first.
She looked directly at the envelope on the coffee table.
Then she said something that made Darius immediately reach for it.
“Mr. Reed, please don't open the sealed document inside that envelope.””
My father narrowed his eyes.
“Why not?””
May you like
Denise placed her briefcase on the hall table.
“Because if the original document is still intact, it could change who has legal authority over Layla.””
