Chapter 2: The Money They Stole
"Which account?"" I asked.
My father didn't answer immediately.
He was still watching Monica.
She took a step toward him, her hands suddenly trembling.
"Richard, we should discuss this privately.""
"No," he replied.
"We've spent six years discussing things privately. That's how this mess happened.""
Damon shoved his hands into his pockets.
"What's going on? What college account?""
My father turned toward him.
"Your sister's education fund. The account I established when she was sixteen.""
My stomach tightened.
I'd known my father had saved money for my education. He'd mentioned it once when I received my acceptance letter, telling me not to worry about tuition because he'd made arrangements.
But when I started college, I was told the fund wasn't enough to cover everything.
I'd taken out loans, worked weekends at a diner, and applied for every scholarship I could find.
At the time, Monica had explained that my father's business had suffered a temporary setback.
"Your father has other responsibilities now," she'd said.
"You can't expect him to keep paying for everything.""
I had believed her.
Now I looked at my father.
"What are you talking about?""
His expression softened.
"Zarya, I established a trust for you. It was supposed to cover your tuition, books, housing, and reasonable living expenses until you graduated.""
"How much money?""
He hesitated.
"Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.""
The number made the world tilt.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"That's impossible.""
"I reviewed the records last week," he said.
"The account was almost empty.""
I stared at him.
"Then why was I working thirty hours a week at the diner? Why did I borrow money for textbooks? Why did I have to choose between buying groceries and paying for a required laboratory course?""
My voice cracked on the last sentence.
My father closed his eyes briefly.
"Because I trusted the wrong person.""
Monica let out an angry laugh.
"This is ridiculous. The money was used for family expenses. We were struggling, and I did what I had to do.""
"Family expenses?"" I repeated.
She turned toward me.
"Don't act so innocent. You lived in this house. You ate the food.
You used electricity. Do you think any of that comes free?""
"I paid for my own food!""
"With what? Your little diner paycheck?""
"With money I earned!""
Monica pointed at me.
"And who paid the mortgage while you played college student?""
My father stepped between us.
"That's enough.""
She threw up her hands.
"You want the truth, Richard? Your daughter has always been selfish. She gets everything she wants, then cries whenever someone asks her to contribute.""
I almost laughed.
Everything I wanted?
I'd worn secondhand clothes to college because I couldn't afford new ones. I'd skipped spring break trips with my classmates. I'd worked through holidays while Damon spent money on expensive sneakers and weekend parties.
And whenever I asked Monica why things were different for us, she told me Damon was older and needed more support.
My father took his phone from his pocket again.
"Martin, it's Richard. I need you at my house immediately. Bring the financial records for the Williams Education Trust and the transaction reports we discussed.""
He paused.
"Yes. Tonight.""
Monica's lips parted.
"You hired a lawyer?""
"I hired an accountant first," he said.
"The lawyer came afterward.""
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Damon laughed.
"You've got to be kidding me. You're investigating your own family over some money?""
My father turned to him.
"Some money?""
"Yeah! So what if the account was used? We're family. Money moves around.""
"Did you receive money from your sister's trust?""
Damon's smile vanished.
"What?""
"Answer the question.""
He glanced at Monica.
It was quick, but I saw it.
So did my father.
"How much did you receive, Damon?""
"Nothing.""
My father nodded slowly.
"Then you won't mind explaining the payments totaling thirty-eight thousand dollars that went into your personal account.""
Damon's face changed.
Monica immediately stepped forward.
"Those payments were reimbursements.""
"For what?"" my father asked.
"Household expenses.""
"Thirty-eight thousand dollars for household expenses paid directly to your adult son's account?""
She looked away.
My father continued.
"And the twenty-two thousand dollars transferred to the company that purchased his car?""
Damon's shoulders stiffened.
I looked at my brother.
The black SUV parked in the driveway had been his pride and joy. He'd spent weeks showing it off, telling everyone he'd earned it himself.
When I'd asked him how he could afford it while complaining that he couldn't pay his phone bill, he'd laughed and called me jealous.
Now I understood.
"You bought your car with my college money?"" I whispered.
Damon's face reddened.
"Don't start.""
"You told me you saved for it.""
"I said don't start!""
He slammed his palm against the table, rattling the plates.
My father stepped forward.
"Lower your voice.""
Damon turned on him.
"You can't talk to me like I'm some criminal!""
"Then stop behaving like one.""
Several guests murmured.
Monica looked around, noticing the phones pointed in their direction.
"Everyone needs to leave," she announced.
"This is a private family matter.""
Aunt Denise rose from her chair.
"No, Monica. You made it everyone's business when you tore up that girl's diploma.""
Monica glared at her.
"Stay out of this.""
"I've stayed out of it for years," Denise replied.
"I've watched you make Zarya feel like a stranger in her own home. I won't do it anymore.""
My throat tightened.
For years, I'd wondered whether anyone noticed.
They had.
They'd simply been too uncomfortable to speak.
My father took off his suit jacket and placed it around my shoulders. Only then did I realize how badly I was shaking.
"Go inside, sweetheart," he said gently.
"Clean your hand. I'll take care of this.""
I shook my head.
"No.""
He paused.
"I want to hear everything.""
His eyes searched mine.
"Are you sure?""
I nodded.
"I've spent years being told to stay quiet. I'm done.""
For the first time that afternoon, Monica had nothing to say.
Twenty minutes later, a silver sedan pulled into the driveway.
Martin Hale, my father's accountant, stepped out carrying a thick folder. He was a narrow-faced man in his fifties who had handled my father's finances for more than a decade.
He didn't greet the guests.
He walked straight to my father and handed him the folder.
"I brought the original statements," Martin said.
"And there's something else you need to see.""
My father opened the folder.
Martin glanced at Monica, then at Damon.
"The transfers weren't all made from the education trust.""
My father looked up.
"What do you mean?""
Martin swallowed.
"Someone also accessed Zarya's personal savings account. And based on the authorization records, the person who did it used a signature that doesn't belong to Zarya.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"My savings account?""
I'd deposited every paycheck from the diner into that account. I'd saved birthday money, scholarship refunds, and the small amounts relatives gave me for Christmas.
It wasn't much, but it was mine.
"How much?"" I asked.
Martin looked at the page.
"Just over seventeen thousand dollars.""
I gripped the back of a chair.
"That's everything I saved.""
My father slowly turned another page.
Then he stopped.
His expression became unreadable.
"Martin," he said quietly, "tell me you're mistaken.""
"I'm afraid I'm not.""
"What is it?"" I asked.
My father looked at Monica.
"According to the bank records, the person who authorized the withdrawals was listed as Zarya's legal guardian.""
I frowned.
"I've never had a legal guardian. Dad, you raised me.""
Martin adjusted his glasses.
"There's another document attached to the account.""
He placed a single sheet of paper on the table.
At the bottom was a signature.
Zarya Williams.
My signature.
Except I had never signed it.
My father stared at the page, then lifted his eyes toward Monica.
"Did you forge my daughter's name?""
Monica's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Damon suddenly stepped away from her.
And when my father asked the next question, my stepmother did something none of us expected.
May you like
She pointed directly at me.
"She knows exactly why I had to do it!""
