Chapter 6 - MARCUS'S DEBT
My brother wasn't building a nursery. He was buying himself time.
I found Marcus at a restaurant the next afternoon.
He looked exhausted.
His shirt was wrinkled.
His phone wouldn't stop vibrating.
He kept turning it face down.
When he saw me, he stood.
“You came.”
“I want the truth.”
He sat again.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
He rubbed his face.
“Bella, I didn't know Dad forged anything.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He said nothing.
I placed a copy of the loan guarantee on the table.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“Doesn't matter.”
He stared at the document.
“You weren't supposed to see that.”
“So there is a debt.”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
He looked away.
“Marcus.”
“Three hundred and eighty thousand.”
I felt nothing for several seconds.
Then disbelief.
“You owe three hundred and eighty thousand dollars?”
“It's business debt.”
“What business?”
“My company.”
“You've had four companies.”
“That's not fair.”
“You quit every one.”
“I had bad partners.”
“You told Dad the same thing.”
His jaw tightened.
“Dad said he'd fix it.”
“With my house.”
He didn't answer.
I leaned forward.
“Did you know he planned to sell it?”
“No.”
“Did you know he created the LLC?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A few months ago.”
“Why?”
“He said it was for development.”
I stared at him.
“You let him use my name.”
“I thought it was just paperwork.”
“There's no such thing as just paperwork when a mortgage is involved.”
He lowered his voice.
“Bella, I was desperate.”
“You should have called me.”
“You would have said no.”
“Maybe.”
“I knew it.”
“And that justified this?”
“No.”
He looked down.
“Jennifer is pregnant.”
“I know.”
“We've got bills.”
“Then get a job.”
He flinched.
I regretted the sharpness.
Then I remembered my torn sunroom.
“How did you think this would end?”
Marcus didn't answer.
Finally he whispered,
“Dad said once the renovation was done, we could refinance.”
I stared at him.
“Refinance what?”
“The house.”
“My house.”
“Yes.”
“Into whose name?”
He looked at me.
Then away.
“I don't know.”
That answer was worse than a lie.
I stood.
“Where is Jennifer?”
“At home.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Tell her.”
“Bella…”
“Tell her.”
He grabbed my wrist.
“Please.”
I pulled free.
“You stopped being my brother when you helped them forge my name.”
His eyes filled with panic.
“I didn't forge anything.”
“But you knew.”
“Yes.”
That single word changed everything.
I looked at him.
“You knew they were using my identity.”
He nodded.
“I thought Dad would make it right.”
“You always think Dad will make it right.”
He whispered,
“I'm sorry.”
I believed him.
And somehow that made it worse.
Because sorry wasn't going to rebuild my wall.
Sorry wasn't going to erase the forged documents.
Sorry wasn't going to put $10,000 back onto my emergency card.
I walked away.
At the door, Marcus called my name.
I stopped.
“There's something else.”
I turned.
His face had gone pale.
“Dad didn't create the development plan.”
I stared at him.
“Who did?”
He looked around the restaurant before whispering,
“Uncle Richard.”
I froze.
My father had no brother named Richard.
At least not one anyone talked about.
Marcus continued.
“That's why Dad is desperate.”
“Who is Richard?”
“My father's half-brother.”
“Where is he?”
Marcus shook his head.
“California, I think.”
“Why do you sound scared?”
“Because he came to see Dad three months ago.”
“And?”
“They fought.”
“About what?”
Marcus looked toward the window.
Then back at me.
“He said if Dad couldn't deliver the lake property by Thanksgiving, he'd take everything.”
My pulse quickened.
“Everything?”
Marcus nodded.
Then he added,
“He said the family trust belongs to him.”
I almost laughed.
“That's impossible.”
Marcus's face didn't change.
“Then ask Dad why he keeps calling Richard ‘the real owner.’”
I left the restaurant.
May you like
And for the first time, I had a new question.
What exactly had my grandmother hidden from all of us?
