Chapter 12 - The Realtor
The realtor’s name was Rebecca Sloan.
Marcus called from Rachel’s office.
“Mr. Reed,” Rebecca said cautiously, “I assumed I’d eventually meet you.”
“You almost listed my house without meeting me.”
“I would never list property without the owner’s signed authorization.”
“But Camille discussed it with you.”
“Yes.”
“How far did it go?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“She requested a market analysis.”
“Did she tell you I agreed?”
“She said you were emotionally attached to the property and she was helping prepare the numbers before discussing it.”
Marcus almost admired the wording.
Camille rarely told one enormous lie when several smaller ones could do the same work.
Rebecca emailed the analysis.
Estimated sale price: $842,000.
Marcus had $311,000 remaining on the mortgage.
After costs, the available equity would have exceeded $470,000.
Enough for the down payment on Camille’s lake house.
There was more.
Rebecca forwarded a text.
Once Maya’s school situation is resolved, Marcus will be ready to move quickly.
School situation.
Marcus read it several times.
Rachel folded her hands.
“Do you see why evidence matters?”
“Yes.”
“Camille’s position will likely be that she was exploring possibilities, not executing a conspiracy.”
“That’s what it was.”
“Emotionally, perhaps. Legally, we need precision.”
Marcus nodded.
He was learning that truth and proof were related but not identical.
That evening he opened Elena’s blue box.
Maya sat beside him.
“Can I see?”
“Yes.”
They found photographs.
Hospital bracelets.
A lock of baby hair.
Elena’s handwriting.
Maya laughed at a picture of Marcus holding her as a newborn.
“You look scared.”
“I was terrified.”
“Why?”
“You were tiny.”
“I’m still tiny.”
“You’re bigger than that.”
At the bottom Marcus found Elena’s letter.
He read it silently.
Marcus,
If Maya remembers anything from me, let it be that she was wanted every day of her life.
Marcus stopped.
Maya leaned against his shoulder.
“What does it say?”
He considered hiding it until she was older.
Then he realized too many adults had already decided what Maya was allowed to know.
He read it aloud.
Elena wrote about ordinary things.
Maya’s laugh.
Her hatred of peas.
The way she slept sideways.
Then came the sentence Marcus remembered.
Never let grief make her feel like a guest in her own life.
His voice broke.
Maya looked at him.
“Dad?”
Marcus put the letter down.
“I’m sorry.”
“For crying?”
“No.”
He turned toward her.
“For not seeing what was happening.”
Maya thought about that.
“You were working.”
“That explains where I was. It doesn’t make everything okay.”
“Camille said you had to work because I was expensive.”
“That was not true.”
“She said my school costs more than she wanted.”
Marcus frowned.
“Your school?”
Maya attended public school.
“What school?”
“The other school.”
“What other school?”
Maya looked confused.
“The one Mom left money for.”
Marcus went completely still.
“What did Camille tell you?”
“She said there was money for when I got bigger, but I was wasting it now.”
Marcus’s heart began pounding.
Elena had indeed left money for Maya.
Not school tuition now.
A custodial investment account funded partly by Elena’s life-insurance proceeds and managed by Marcus.
It contained approximately $186,000.
Marcus had not checked it in several months.
He opened his banking application.
The account balance appeared.
$137,420.
May you like
Marcus stared.
Nearly fifty thousand dollars was missing.
