Chapter 4: The Man in My Mother's Photograph
My father stared at the photograph as though the person standing beside Denise had just walked into the room.
"Daniel Reynolds," he whispered.
I looked at him.
"Who is he?""
Dad didn't answer immediately. He placed the photograph on the dresser and rubbed his forehead.
"He's the attorney who handled your mother's estate.""
I glanced at Denise.
She was standing near the bedroom door, gripping the handle so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
"Why was Mom taking pictures of him with you?"" I asked.
Denise shook her head.
"Your mother was confused toward the end. She misunderstood things.""
Dad turned sharply.
"Don't you dare use my wife's illness to explain away this photograph.""
"I'm telling you what happened.""
"No. You're telling me what you want me to believe.""
Brianna stood behind her mother, looking between them.
"Mom, who's Daniel?""
Denise didn't respond.
I picked up the photograph.
It had been taken outside a restaurant. Denise was wearing a cream-colored coat, and Daniel Reynolds had one hand resting on her shoulder.
They weren't standing like business acquaintances.
They looked comfortable.
Almost intimate.
On the back, beneath my mother's handwriting, was another sentence.
I found out where the money went.
I read it aloud.
My father slowly turned toward the financial records.
"What money?""
Denise immediately stepped forward.
"Marcus, those records don't mean anything. There were legitimate expenses connected to the estate.""
"Then why did you hide them?""
"I didn't hide anything.""
Dad lifted the folder.
"These withdrawals were made from the trust account. Every month. For nearly two years.""
I looked at the numbers.
They were much larger than anything I had ever seen in my life.
"Was that money supposed to be mine?""
Dad nodded.
"Your mother left money specifically for your education and future.""
My stomach twisted.
"How much?""
He examined the statement.
"Enough to cover your college expenses, living costs, and more.""
I remembered all those nights I had spent calculating tuition fees.
I remembered filling out scholarship applications at the kitchen table while Denise complained about printer ink and electricity bills.
I remembered asking Dad whether I could afford a used laptop.
And all that time, money meant for me had apparently been disappearing.
Denise crossed her arms.
"Marcus, you're letting a dead woman's paranoid suspicions destroy our marriage.""
Dad's face became frighteningly still.
"Your marriage?""
He pointed toward the photograph.
"You were meeting the attorney responsible for managing my daughter's trust behind my back.""
She looked away.
"That photograph proves nothing.""
"Then tell me why my wife wrote his name beside a warning.""
Denise remained silent.
A doorbell rang downstairs.
Dad looked at his watch.
"That should be him.""
My heart began racing.
Daniel Reynolds had been my mother's attorney. I remembered seeing him at the funeral, standing near the back of the church and speaking quietly with Dad.
I had never imagined he might have anything to do with the missing money.
Dad went downstairs.
I followed him, leaving Denise and Brianna upstairs.
A few minutes later, a gray-haired man entered the living room carrying a leather briefcase.
He looked older than the man in the photograph, but I recognized his face immediately.
"Marcus," he said, extending his hand.
Dad didn't shake it.
"Daniel, I need you to explain something.""
The attorney noticed me.
His expression softened.
"Maya. You look just like your mother.""
I swallowed.
"Did you know she left me a trust?""
He paused.
"Of course.""
"Then why didn't I know about it?""
Daniel placed his briefcase on the coffee table.
"Because I was instructed to disclose the complete terms when you reached eighteen, unless circumstances required earlier intervention.""
Dad leaned forward.
"Someone has been taking money from that account.""
Daniel's expression changed.
"How did you discover that?""
"My wife found the records in a hidden compartment.""
The attorney looked toward the stairs.
"Is Denise here?""
"Upstairs.""
Daniel opened his briefcase and removed a thick folder.
"I was hoping this conversation wouldn't happen under these circumstances.""
Dad stared at him.
"Then tell us what happened.""
Daniel sat down.
"Your wife discovered irregularities in the trust shortly before her death. She contacted me privately because she believed someone close to the family was attempting to redirect Maya's inheritance.""
I felt cold.
"Someone close to the family?""
Daniel nodded.
"She suspected Denise.""
Dad stood.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Your wife specifically asked me not to confront anyone until I had enough evidence. She was afraid that if the person involved discovered what she knew, Maya's future could be compromised.""
I looked toward the stairs.
Denise was now standing halfway down, listening.
"That's ridiculous," she said.
Daniel looked up.
"Mrs. Carter.""
She descended slowly.
"You've had years to make accusations. Why suddenly come here now?""
Daniel closed the folder.
"Because Marcus found the documents your late wife concealed.""
Denise laughed bitterly.
"She was sick. She was suspicious of everyone.""
Dad stepped between them.
"Enough.""
Daniel removed another document.
"This is a copy of the original trust agreement. There are also transaction records and correspondence showing that someone attempted to change the beneficiary designation.""
Dad took the paper.
"Change it to whom?""
Daniel looked directly at Denise.
"That is what I need to establish.""
Brianna came downstairs.
"Mom, what's going on?""
Denise grabbed her daughter's hand.
"Nothing you need to worry about.""
But Brianna pulled away.
"Why are there letters from Maya's college in your drawer?""
Nobody spoke.
Daniel looked at me.
"College letters?""
I nodded.
"She hid all of them. Including my full scholarship.""
The attorney's expression darkened.
"She hid your scholarship notification?""
"Yes.""
Daniel looked at Dad.
"Then we need to examine the correspondence immediately.""
He removed another folder from his briefcase.
Before he could open it, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His face changed.
"Excuse me. I need to take this.""
He stepped into the hallway.
I watched him through the doorway.
His voice was low, but I caught one sentence.
"No. She cannot be allowed to destroy those documents.""
When he returned, he looked directly at my father.
"Marcus, there's something else your wife discovered before she died.""
Dad stood.
"What?""
Daniel hesitated.
"She found evidence that someone had been trying to sell the house without your knowledge.""
My father went completely still.
May you like
Then Daniel added:
"And the attempted sale was made using documents bearing your signature.""
