I stared at the papers.

"Why?"

"Because we knew your company was planning to sell that commercial building."

My heartbeat quickened.

"How did you know?"

Raymond looked at Denise.

"She told me."

Denise closed her eyes.

I felt my stomach sink.

At the time, Denise and I had been dating.

I had told her about the building because I trusted her.

I remembered explaining that the property was expensive to maintain.

She had encouraged me to sell quickly.

Now I was beginning to understand why.

"Did you use information I gave Denise to negotiate the purchase?" I asked.

Raymond hesitated.

"Yes."

My hands tightened.

"Did you misrepresent who controlled the buying company?"

Raymond looked down.

"Yes."

Denise suddenly spoke.

"Marcus, I never intended to hurt you."

I turned toward her.

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

Her eyes filled.

"Because I knew you'd leave."

The words landed heavily.

Raymond continued.

"Denise and I had a private arrangement."

He pointed at the property documents.

"She was supposed to receive a share of the profits."

I stared at him.

"How much?"

He hesitated.

"Two hundred thousand dollars."

I felt sick.

Denise had helped arrange a transaction involving my company while hiding her financial interest.

"Did you receive that money?" I asked her.

She shook her head.

"Not all of it."

Raymond laughed bitterly.

"Because you wanted everything."

Denise turned on him.

"You promised the girls would be provided for!"

"They were!"

"You disappeared for months!"

Their voices rose.

I slammed my palm against the table.

"Enough!"

Both went silent.

I took a breath.

"Raymond, why have you been demanding money from Denise?"

He looked uncomfortable.

"She owed me."

"For what?"

"Legal expenses. Investments. Money I put into the company."

I stared at him.

"Then why threaten to expose her before the wedding?"

He hesitated.

Denise looked terrified.

I knew there was more.

"Raymond."

He sighed.

"Because she wasn't supposed to keep the property proceeds after our settlement."

I looked at Denise.

"Is that true?"

She began crying.

"Marcus, please."

"Answer me."

She nodded.

My heart sank.

Then I looked at Raymond.

"And you decided to pressure her for money instead of resolving it legally?"

He looked away.

"I made mistakes."

I almost laughed.

Mistakes.

That was becoming everyone's favorite word.

But the harm done to Maya wasn't a bookkeeping mistake.

It was a choice repeated over months.

I looked at Denise.

"Did you take money intended for Maya and send it to Raymond?"

She started sobbing.

"Yes."

I closed my eyes.

For a moment, the room seemed to tilt.

I thought about Maya tutoring other children to buy her own school supplies.

About the winter coat she had needed.

About the glasses she had been afraid to ask for.

I opened my eyes.

"How could you?"

Denise shook her head.

"I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have told me the truth."

"You would have hated me!"

I stared at her.

"I don't hate you."

She looked hopeful.

Then I continued.

"But I don't trust you."

Her expression collapsed.

Raymond began gathering his papers.

"I've told you what you need to know."

I turned toward him.

"No."

He stopped.

"You participated in this. You don't get to walk away pretending you're innocent."

His face hardened.

"I came here voluntarily."

"And you'll have an opportunity to explain everything through the proper legal process."

Raymond looked uneasy.

I picked up my phone.

"Rachel is coming over. You're going to leave copies of those documents."

Denise wiped her eyes.

"Marcus, please don't ruin our family."

I looked toward the staircase.

"Our family was already being hurt."

My voice cracked.

"While I was trusting you."

Denise began crying harder.

Then Tasha appeared in the doorway.

She had been listening.

Her face was pale.

"Mom?"

Denise turned.

"Tasha, go upstairs."

But Tasha didn't move.

She looked at Raymond.

"Dad, is it true?"

Raymond froze.

She continued.

"Did you make Mom give you money?"

He looked ashamed.

"Tasha, it's complicated."

She started crying.

"Did you know Maya wasn't getting anything?"

Neither adult answered.

Tasha stared at her mother.

"Mom?"

Denise covered her face.

And in that moment, I saw something I hadn't expected.

My stepdaughter's anger wasn't directed at Maya.

It was directed at the adults who had made her sister feel unwanted.

Tasha stepped backward.

"I thought Maya was just jealous."

Her voice broke.

"That's what you told me."

Denise whispered her name.

But Tasha shook her head.

"No."

Then she turned and ran upstairs.

I watched her go.

For six years, I had tried to give all three girls a stable family.

Chapter 7

The first person who apologized to Maya wasn't Denise.

It was Tasha.

I found the girls sitting on the staircase the following morning.

Tasha was crying.

Maya looked stunned.

I stopped before they noticed me.

"I didn't know," Tasha whispered.

Maya stared at her hands.

"You never asked."

Tasha flinched.

"I know."

Silence settled between them.

Then Tasha said something that made my throat tighten.

"Mom told us you didn't want to come shopping."

Maya looked up.

"What?"

"She said you hated expensive stores."

Maya gave a sad little laugh.

"I wasn't invited."

Tasha covered her mouth.

"Oh my God."

Maya wiped her eyes.

"Every time you and Lily went somewhere, Denise said it was just for you two."

Tasha began crying harder.

"I thought you were being difficult."

Maya shook her head.

"I just stopped asking."

I stepped backward before either girl noticed me.

They needed that conversation without an adult controlling it.

Downstairs, Claire's old photograph stood on the bookshelf.

No.

Angela's photograph.

My first wife.

Maya's mother.

I picked it up.

Angela was smiling beneath a summer sky, holding baby Maya against her chest.

For years after Angela died, I had been terrified of raising our daughter alone.

I thought Maya needed a mother figure.

Someone to help guide her through adolescence.

Someone to celebrate birthdays, braid her hair, and listen when she didn't want to talk to me.

That longing had made me overlook too much.

I had confused the appearance of a complete family with the reality of a loving one.

And Maya had paid the price.

Later that day, Rachel came to the house.

She reviewed the documents Raymond had left.

Her expression grew increasingly serious.

"Marcus, this is bigger than I expected."

I sat across from her.

"How much bigger?"

"The Southcrest transaction appears to involve undisclosed financial interests and potentially misleading representations."

My stomach tightened.

"Can we reverse the sale?"