Chapter 4: The Papers My Father Signed
For three seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the refrigerator humming behind Yolanda.
Then I asked the only question that mattered.
"What papers?""
My stepmother folded her arms, blocking the kitchen doorway as if she could keep the truth inside the room by standing in front of it.
"You're making this sound worse than it is.""
"Then explain it.""
"Malik, you're sixteen. There are financial arrangements adults make that children don't need to understand.""
"You just told me Dad signed papers connected to an account in my name. That's not an explanation.""
Her jaw tightened.
"Lower your voice.""
"No.""
The word came out before I could stop it.
Yolanda stared at me. For years, I had lowered my voice whenever she raised hers. I'd apologized for things I hadn't done simply because it was easier than enduring another lecture.
But she'd taken my refund. She had a document with my name on it. And now she was telling me my father had helped her do something I didn't understand.
I wasn't going to apologize for asking questions.
"Where's Dad?"" she asked.
"At work.""
"Good. Then we'll wait for him.""
"No. You can tell me now.""
She stepped toward me and held out her hand again.
"Give me the bank card.""
I kept it in my pocket.
"It's not yours.""
"Neither is that document you took a picture of.""
"I didn't take it. Tiana did.""
Yolanda's face changed.
It was a small change, barely more than a tightening around her eyes, but I saw it.
"Tiana showed you the document?""
"Yes.""
"That girl has no idea what she's doing.""
"Then why are you so worried about what she showed me?""
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
For a moment, I thought she might finally tell me the truth.
Instead, she walked to the kitchen counter, picked up her phone, and tapped the screen.
"I'm calling your father.""
"Go ahead.""
She looked at me sharply.
"You think you're grown now because you have a little money and a job?""
"No. I think my name belongs to me.""
She stopped dialing.
The silence between us felt heavier than anything she could have said.
Finally, she pressed the call button.
"Reggie," she said when he answered.
"You need to come home. Malik's been at the bank, asking questions about things he doesn't understand.""
I could hear Dad's voice faintly through the phone.
"What did you tell him?"" he asked.
Yolanda turned away from me.
"I haven't told him anything.""
That was the first outright lie she told while I was standing in the room.
Dad must have heard something in her voice because he asked another question.
Her shoulders stiffened.
"No, Reggie. I did not tell him that.""
She glanced at me.
Then she lowered her voice.
"He already knows about the account.""
She listened for several seconds.
"What do you mean, you want to see the paperwork?""
Another pause.
Then she ended the call.
She stood with the phone pressed against her palm.
"Your father will be home soon," she said.
"Good.""
"Until then, you're not going anywhere.""
I almost laughed.
"You can't keep me in the house.""
"I'm not trying to keep you anywhere. I'm trying to stop you from destroying this family over a misunderstanding.""
I looked at the torn refund envelope still sitting beside the refrigerator. Dad had placed it there the night before, perhaps because he hadn't known what else to do with it.
A misunderstanding.
That was what she called taking money without permission.
That was what she called lying about bills.
And apparently, that was what she called a bank document bearing my name and a signature I hadn't written.
"I didn't destroy anything," I said.
"I asked where my money went.""
Yolanda turned away.
"Go to your room.""
I walked upstairs, but I didn't close my door.
At 1:14 p.m., Tiana came home from running an errand. I heard her keys drop into the ceramic bowl near the entrance.
"Mom?"" she called.
"In the kitchen.""
Tiana appeared at my doorway a moment later.
"She knows I showed you the picture, doesn't she?""
"Yes.""
Tiana pressed her back against the wall.
"What did she say?""
"That Dad signed the papers, too.""
Tiana's face went pale.
"Oh, no.""
I stood.
"What does that mean?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"Stop saying that.""
"I'm serious, Malik!""
Her voice cracked.
"I found that folder because Mom asked me to. She told me to bring it downstairs, but when I opened the drawer, there were several folders. Yours was underneath a stack of old bills. I wasn't looking for anything else.""
"What else was in the drawer?""
"Bank statements. Insurance papers. A couple of envelopes from years ago.""
"Did you see my name on anything?""
She hesitated.
"Yes.""
"What?""
"An old savings account statement.""
I stared at her.
"With my name on it?""
"Yes.""
"How old was it?""
"I don't know. The date was from when we still lived in the apartment near Fifth Street.""
I remembered that apartment. I'd been about nine when my father moved us into the house in Oxnard. Back then, Yolanda had only recently married Dad, and Tiana and I had still been learning how to live together.
"What did the statement say?""
"I couldn't read everything. But there was a balance printed on it.""
"How much?""
She swallowed.
"Almost twelve thousand dollars.""
I sat down slowly.
"Twelve thousand?""
"I think so.""
"You're telling me there was a savings account in my name with twelve thousand dollars in it, and nobody told me?""
"That's what I saw.""
I looked at the shoebox on my desk.
All summer, I'd been saving money for a used laptop. I'd counted every dollar, calculated every shift, and celebrated a $410 refund as if it were a small fortune.
Meanwhile, there might have been twelve thousand dollars somewhere with my name attached to it.
"Did you tell Mom you saw the statement?""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because she came back into the room before I could read it. She grabbed the folder and told me to stop snooping.""
"Did you see where she put it?""
Tiana nodded.
"Her bedroom. The top drawer of the dresser.""
I stood again.
"Don't," she said immediately.
"Don't what?""
"Go looking for it. She'll know.""
"She already knows I went to the bank.""
"That doesn't mean you should make things worse.""
I turned toward her.
"Do you hear yourself? Every time we find out something new, you tell me not to do anything.""
Tiana flinched.
I regretted my tone, but not my words.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"But I can't keep doing this.""
She looked down at her hands.
"I know.""
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she said, "There was something else on the statement.""
"What?""
"An account title. It said something about a custodial account.""
I had heard the term before, but I wasn't sure what it meant.
Tiana pulled out her phone.
"Let me look it up.""
She typed for a few seconds, then turned the screen toward me.
"A custodial account is an account held by an adult for a minor," she read.
"The adult manages it until the child reaches the age specified by the applicable rules.""
"So Dad or Yolanda could have managed it?""
"Maybe. It depends on the account.""
I thought about the words I'd heard at the bank.
The document.
The account.
The record Mr. Price hadn't been willing to discuss.
And Yolanda's insistence that the money wasn't supposed to be mine forever.
"What happens when the child gets older?"" I asked.
Tiana scrolled.
"Usually, control eventually transfers to the child, depending on the account type and state law.""
I stared at the screen.
"That's why she said something about me turning seventeen.""
Tiana looked up.
"Maybe.""
The front door opened before I could say anything else.
Dad walked into the hallway, still wearing his warehouse uniform. His face was tight, and he was holding a manila envelope.
He looked at me first.
Then Tiana.
Then the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall.
"Where's Yolanda?""
"In the kitchen," I said.
Dad nodded.
"Both of you stay here.""
He walked into the kitchen.
We heard his voice a moment later.
"Show me the papers.""
Yolanda replied, "Reggie, we need to talk about this privately.""
"No. We've been talking privately for years, apparently. Show me the papers.""
A chair scraped across the floor.
Then Yolanda said something too quietly for us to hear.
Dad's voice rose.
"That is not what I agreed to.""
Tiana grabbed my wrist.
"What did he agree to?""
I shook my head.
We moved toward the stairs, stopping just before the kitchen entrance.
Dad stood at the table with the manila envelope open. Yolanda sat across from him, her arms folded tightly against her chest.
"Where did the money go?"" Dad asked.
"I told you. It was used for household expenses.""
"Not the $410. The money from the account.""
Yolanda looked at him.
"Don't do this in front of the children.""
"They're not children when their names are on documents they haven't signed.""
She rose abruptly.
"I did what I thought was best for this family.""
Dad removed a sheet of paper from the envelope.
"Then explain this withdrawal.""
Yolanda's mouth tightened.
Dad placed the document on the table.
I couldn't see the entire page, but I recognized my name near the top.
Underneath it was a number.
$11,840.
Dad tapped the paper.
"Where did this money go, Yolanda?""
She stared at the document.
For the first time, she looked less angry than trapped.
Then she whispered, "Ask your son what he knows about his mother.""
Dad froze.
I had never seen him look that way.
He slowly lifted his eyes to his wife.
"What did you just say?""
Yolanda looked toward the hallway.
May you like
Her gaze found me.
And the expression on her face told me that whatever had happened to my money had begun long before I was old enough to remember it.
