Chapter 9: The Account With My Name on It
I couldn't move.
My mother's confession seemed to hang in the air long after she stopped speaking.
An account created to hide money from my father.
An account carrying my name.
A trust that had supposedly been established to protect my future.
And now, after years of believing I was simply a daughter struggling to escape poverty, I was discovering that my identity had been used as a financial hiding place.
Evelyn closed her laptop.
"Monique, I need you to explain exactly what you mean.""
My mother shook her head.
"I can't.""
"Why not?""
"Because Richard will destroy me.""
Evelyn leaned forward.
"Richard is already under investigation. If you continue withholding information, you may make your own situation considerably worse.""
Monique looked at me.
"Zarya, you have to understand. I never wanted this to happen.""
I laughed once.
A short, bitter sound.
"You didn't want me to find out.""
She flinched.
"That's not true.""
"Then tell me what account you're talking about.""
She stared at her hands.
"After your father became sick, Richard told me there were creditors looking for money. He said Arthur had been hiding business losses and that the company would be seized if we didn't move some assets.""
"So you opened an account in my name?""
"Richard arranged it.""
"Using my information?""
She nodded.
I felt sick.
"How old was I?""
"Thirteen.""
I looked at Denise.
She had gone pale.
"Monique, you used a child's identity to hide business funds?""
"I didn't understand all the paperwork!""
"You signed it," Denise said.
"I was trying to protect my children!""
Marcus suddenly stood.
"Stop saying that!""
Everyone turned toward him.
His eyes were wet.
"You keep saying everything was for us. But you made Zarya work every weekend. You told me Dad left us nothing. You made us feel guilty for asking for anything.""
Monique reached toward him.
"Marcus, please.""
He stepped back.
"You even made me think Dad didn't love us enough to leave anything.""
My mother started crying harder.
Marcus wiped his face.
"I miss him.""
Those three words silenced the room.
I reached for my brother's hand.
"I miss him too.""
Evelyn gathered the documents.
"We need the original account records. Without them, we cannot establish where the money went or who ultimately benefited.""
My mother stared at the carpet.
Then she whispered, "The records are at Richard's office.""
Evelyn looked up.
"Do you have access?""
"I used to.""
"Do you still?""
Monique nodded.
"There's a cabinet in his private conference room. He keeps the original agreements there.""
"Why would he leave them accessible?""
"Because he doesn't think anyone knows about them.""
Evelyn exchanged a look with the investigator.
"We'll handle that through the proper legal channels.""
I stood.
"Can I ask one more thing?""
"Of course," Evelyn said.
"Why did Dad make you wait until I turned eighteen?""
Her expression softened.
"Because he wanted you to have a choice. He believed you should decide whether you wanted to take over the company rather than have the responsibility forced on you as a child.""
I looked at the black binder.
"And if I don't want it?""
"Then we can arrange for an independent manager to operate it while your interests remain protected.""
I thought about the scholarship.
The late nights.
The grocery store shifts.
The countless hours I'd spent planning a future that my mother had nearly destroyed.
"I want the truth first," I said.
"Then I'll decide.""
Evelyn nodded.
"That's exactly what your father wanted.""
Three days later, I sat in Evelyn's office.
A large window overlooked the city.
Stacks of financial documents covered the conference table.
A forensic accountant named Mr. Lewis had spent the previous two days tracing the transactions.
He pointed to a chart.
"We've identified four major transfers from the trust and seven from the company.""
"How much?""
"Approximately $2.1 million across the accounts we've reviewed so far.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Two million?""
"Yes. We believe a substantial portion was transferred through the account established under your identity.""
"Where is it now?""
He turned his laptop toward me.
The final destination was an offshore holding company.
Its registered beneficiary was a person named Richard Hale.
I stared at the screen.
"So he took everything?""
"Not everything. Some assets remain in the original company accounts. But the transfers are significant.""
Evelyn placed another document in front of me.
"There's also the matter of the scholarship cancellation.""
I looked up.
"The university?""
"Mr. Bennett has been working with our office. He confirmed that the cancellation request contained several false statements.""
"Can it be reversed?""
"Possibly. The scholarship committee will need to reconsider your eligibility.""
I swallowed.
"Will they?""
Evelyn smiled faintly.
"They haven't forgotten your academic record.""
For the first time in days, I allowed myself to imagine Westbridge again.
A dorm room.
A campus library.
Classes.
A future that belonged to me.
Then Mr. Lewis opened another file.
"There's something else we discovered.""
He enlarged a scanned document.
It was a bank transfer authorization dated two days before my father's death.
The account number was familiar.
The same account that had been opened under my name.
But the recipient was different.
It was a hospital payment account.
I frowned.
"What is this?""
Mr. Lewis examined the details.
"Your father's medical expenses.""
I looked at the transaction amount.
$86,000.
"Did my mother pay for his treatment with the money?""
"According to this record, yes.""
My throat tightened.
For all the terrible things I'd discovered, there was still a part of me that wanted to believe my mother had done something out of love.
Then Mr. Lewis pointed to the date.
"The transfer was initiated after the hospital had already confirmed that your father's treatment was covered by insurance.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
He nodded.
"The hospital account received a payment, but the insurer had already settled the same expenses. We need to establish why a second payment was made and where the excess funds went.""
I looked at Evelyn.
"Could it have been a mistake?""
"Possibly.""
She turned another page.
"But there is something unusual.""
The document contained a handwritten instruction.
Release payment only after confirmation of death.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
My father had been alive when the document was prepared.
The payment was designed to happen after he died.
"Who wrote that?"" I whispered.
Mr. Lewis examined the signature.
"Richard Hale.""
I looked toward Evelyn.
"Did Richard know Dad was going to die?""
She closed the folder.
"We don't know that.""
"But he prepared a payment that could only be released after Dad's death.""
"Yes.""
I stared at the document.
Then another thought struck me.
"Was Mom involved?""
Evelyn didn't answer.
Instead, she removed a final page.
It was a copy of an email sent from Monique's personal account to Richard.
The subject line read:
After Arthur.
The message contained only two sentences.
Everything will be easier once he is gone.
Make sure the children never find out about the agreement.
I felt my stomach turn.
I looked at the date.
Three days before my father's heart attack.
"No," I whispered.
Evelyn reached for my hand.
"Zarya, this is deeply concerning, but an email alone does not establish that anyone caused his death.""
I couldn't stop staring at the screen.
My father had been sick.
He had been fighting for his life.
And while I sat beside his hospital bed, holding his hand and promising that I'd make him proud, my mother had been discussing what would happen after he was gone.
I stood abruptly.
"I need to talk to her.""
Evelyn shook her head.
"Not alone.""
"I need to hear her say it.""
"Zarya, please think carefully.""
But I was already reaching for my phone.
I called my mother.
She answered after three rings.
"Zarya?""
"Did you know Dad's medical expenses were already covered?""
Silence.
"Mom?""
"Who told you that?""
"Did you send Richard money after Dad died?""
She began breathing heavily.
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"I have the email, Mom.""
Another silence.
Then she whispered, "You weren't supposed to see that.""
My knees weakened.
"Why did you write it?""
"Zarya, please.""
"Why did you tell him everything would be easier once Dad was gone?""
She started crying.
"I didn't mean it like that.""
"Then what did you mean?""
She said nothing.
I pressed the phone against my ear.
"Mom, did you and Richard plan to take Dad's company after he died?""
Her answer came so quietly I almost missed it.
"Richard said your father would never agree to the transfer while he was alive.""
My entire body went cold.
"Transfer what?""
"The company.""
"Mom...""
"He told me it was the only way to protect us.""
"Did Dad know?""
She began sobbing.
"Your father found out.""
I closed my eyes.
"What happened after that?""
"Richard said he would handle everything.""
"Handle what?""
She took a shaky breath.
Then she said the sentence that shattered whatever remained of my trust.
"Your father wasn't supposed to die that night.""
I couldn't speak.
Evelyn had heard enough to stand up.
She signaled the investigator.
I whispered into the phone.
"What do you mean?""
My mother started crying uncontrollably.
"Zarya, I swear I didn't know he would—"
The call suddenly disconnected.
I stared at my phone.
Then it rang again.
This time, the caller ID showed Marcus.
I answered immediately.
"Marcus?""
His voice was frantic.
"Zarya, you need to come home.""
"What's wrong?""
"Mom is packing.""
"Where is she going?""
"I don't know. She took Dad's old documents, and there's a man here.""
"What man?""
Marcus lowered his voice.
"Richard.""
I looked at Evelyn.
Then my brother said something that made my blood turn to ice.
"Zarya, Richard just told Mom that if she doesn't leave town tonight, he'll tell everyone what really happened to Dad.""
And before I could respond, I heard a crash.
May you like
Marcus screamed.
The call went dead.
