The Money I Sent for My Son

Patricia arrived at my house the following morning.

She didn't call first.

She simply knocked twice, then used the spare key Vanessa had never returned.

When I opened the front door, she stood there holding a casserole dish.

As if nothing had happened.

"Marcus, I brought breakfast.""

I stared at her.

"Put the key on the table.""

She blinked.

"What?""

"The key. Put it down.""

Her expression hardened.

"Don't speak to me like that.""

I held out my hand.

After several seconds, she dropped the key into my palm.

Then she walked into the kitchen without waiting for an invitation.

"I heard you've been making a terrible situation out of something very simple.""

I followed her.

"Did you sign as a witness on my property authorization?""

Patricia placed the casserole on the counter.

"I don't know what you're talking about.""

Robert had already sent me the bank's preliminary findings.

The document had been submitted six months earlier, along with copies of my identification.

Patricia's signature appeared on the witness declaration.

I placed a printed copy on the table.

"Is this your signature?""

She glanced at it.

"Yes.""

"Did I sign this?""

She folded her arms.

"Vanessa explained everything to me.""

"That's not what I asked.""

Patricia looked toward the staircase.

"Where's Noah?""

"Upstairs.""

"I want to see my grandson.""

"You can answer my question first.""

She let out an irritated breath.

"Marcus, you were never home. Vanessa was struggling. Daniel offered to help. Someone had to make decisions.""

I stared at her.

"About my house?""

"About the family.""

"By forging my signature?""

"Nobody was trying to steal anything.""

"Then why did you submit a document giving Daniel access to the proceeds if the house was sold?""

Patricia pulled out a chair.

"Because Vanessa needed financial security.""

I laughed once.

"She had financial security. I sent her money every month.""

"Not enough.""

"Thirty-eight thousand dollars wasn't enough?""

Patricia looked away.

That was when I understood she had known about the transfers.

I sat across from her.

"How much did you receive?""

Her head snapped up.

"What?""

"How much of my money did Vanessa give you?""

She stood abruptly.

"How dare you?""

"Answer me.""

"I helped raise Noah!""

"You helped them make him believe his father abandoned him.""

Patricia's face reddened.

"He needed discipline.""

"He needed school. He needed medical care. He needed someone to protect him.""

She pointed toward me.

"You have no idea what Vanessa went through!""

"Then tell me.""

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Finally, she lowered herself into the chair.

"Daniel said he could help Vanessa build a better life.""

"By taking my son's education money?""

"He said it was temporary.""

"How much?""

She rubbed her forehead.

"Some of the money went toward household expenses.""

"And the rest?""

She didn't answer.

I slid another paper across the table.

It was a bank transfer record Robert had obtained through the proper channels.

$7,500.

Recipient: Patricia Miller.

Date: February 12.

Description: Family Support.

I tapped the page.

"What was this for?""

Her eyes widened.

"Vanessa said that money was a gift.""

"From whom?""

"She said Daniel had arranged it.""

I leaned forward.

"It came from the account I was funding.""

Patricia stared at the paper.

Then she whispered, "I didn't know.""

"Didn't know what? That the money was mine?""

She closed her eyes.

"I thought it was money Daniel had earned.""

I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat.

"You didn't think to ask why he was paying you?""

"He said he was investing in the family.""

"Which family?""

She looked at me.

I continued.

"The one where my son washes dishes? Or the one where Daniel buys expensive jewelry for Vanessa?""

Patricia's eyes filled with tears.

"Marcus, please. I made a mistake.""

I stood.

"A mistake is forgetting a birthday. A mistake is buying the wrong groceries. You helped someone falsify documents that could have taken my house and my child.""

"I was trying to protect Vanessa.""

"And who was protecting Noah?""

She had no answer.

At that moment, Noah appeared at the kitchen entrance.

He was holding a small box.

"Grandma?""

Patricia immediately stood.

"Oh, sweetheart.""

She opened her arms.

Noah didn't move.

"Are you mad at me?"" she asked.

He looked at her carefully.

"Did you know I was going to Greenwood?""

Her face crumpled.

"Sweetheart, it was just an idea.""

"Did you know I didn't want to go?""

Patricia swallowed.

"Your mother thought it would be good for you.""

Noah shook his head.

"You told Mom I was difficult.""

Patricia looked horrified.

"Noah—"

"You said I made her tired.""

I felt my hands tighten.

Patricia took a step toward him.

He stepped back.

That small movement said more than any argument could.

"Please don't make me go away," he whispered.

Patricia covered her mouth.

I walked over and put my arm around him.

"Nobody is sending you anywhere.""

Patricia began crying.

But Noah didn't go to her.

He turned and walked back upstairs.

After he left, Patricia sat down.

"I didn't know he was working at the restaurant.""

I looked at her.

"Would it have mattered if you had known?""

She didn't answer.

My phone rang.

Robert.

"Marcus, I need you to come to my office.""

"What happened?""

"I reviewed the financial records Patricia submitted to the bank. There are multiple inconsistencies.""

"Can you explain?""

"Some of the documents appear to have been created using information from your original property purchase. But there's something else.""

"What?""

"Daniel has been attempting to establish a financial interest in your property through a separate company.""

I stared at Patricia.

She looked down.

Robert continued.

"The company is connected to an address Vanessa used on several school and financial documents.""

"Which address?""

He read it out.

I recognized it immediately.

It was the address of a small office building Daniel owned.

"Why would he use that?""

"Because Brooks Family Services is listed as the proposed recipient of the property sale proceeds.""

I closed my eyes.

Then Robert added:

"Marcus, I found a second bank account. It appears Vanessa has been transferring money there for months.""

"Whose account?""

"Patricia's.""

I looked at the woman sitting across from me.

She had stopped crying.

Instead, she was staring at her handbag.

"Patricia," I said slowly.

"What's in your bag?""

She stood.

"Nothing.""

"Show me.""

"Don't be ridiculous.""

She moved toward the door.

I didn't touch her.

I simply stepped aside and called Robert.

"Patricia is here. I think she knows something.""

She stopped.

For several seconds, she stared at me.

Then she reached into her handbag and removed a thick envelope.

"I didn't want this to happen," she whispered.

She placed it on the table.

Inside were copies of emails, bank statements, and a letter addressed to Vanessa.

The letter was from Daniel.

It read:

Once Marcus signs the property authorization, we can finalize everything. Patricia will keep the money temporarily. Vanessa will file for the guardianship arrangement, and Noah will be placed at Greenwood. After that, there will be no reason for Marcus to remain involved.

I read the letter twice.

Then I looked at Patricia.

"Why did you keep this?""

She wiped her face.

"Because I started to realize Daniel wasn't going to share the money the way he promised.""

My phone buzzed.

An email from Robert had arrived.

It contained a scanned copy of another document.

A life insurance policy.

My name was on it.

The beneficiary had been changed three months earlier.

I opened the file.