Chapter 6 - The Old AccountMarcus barely slept.
The college account had been opened when Jayden was nine months old.
Marcus had been twenty-eight and convinced adulthood could be mastered with automatic transfers.
Fifty dollars a paycheck.
Sometimes one hundred.
Tasha had contributed whenever she could.
It had not been a formal 529 plan.
Just a custodial savings account they intended to convert later.
Then their relationship collapsed.
Arguments about schedules, money, Tasha feeling controlled, Marcus feeling taken for granted.
During the breakup, the account disappeared from his online banking.
Marcus had assumed Tasha moved it.
He had asked once.
She told him the money was safe.
He had chosen not to reopen another fight.
Now he wondered why Loretta had brought it up.
At seven the next morning, Marcus called the bank.
The representative could not give him historical information without verification.
After twenty minutes and several security questions, she confirmed the account had been closed nine years earlier.
“Can you tell me the closing balance?”
“One moment.”
Keyboard sounds.
“Four thousand eight hundred sixty-two dollars and nineteen cents.”
Marcus sat upright in bed.
“Who closed it?”
“I can request archived records, but I cannot provide that information verbally.”
“How long?”
“Usually several business days.”
Marcus ended the call and stared at the wall.
Almost five thousand dollars.
Gone.
By eight-thirty he was outside Tasha’s house.
She opened the door wearing sweatpants and a head scarf.
“What happened?”
“Where’s Jayden?”
“Still asleep.”
“Good.”
Marcus walked inside.
Tasha watched him carefully.
“What now?”
“The college account.”
Color left her face.
That was answer enough.
Marcus felt sick.
“Where is it?”
“Marcus—”
“Where is Jayden’s money?”
Tasha closed the door.
“Lower your voice.”
“Answer me.”
She walked toward the kitchen.
He followed.
“The account was closed years ago.”
“I know.”
Tasha stopped.
“You called the bank.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms.
“How much was in it?”
He watched her.
“Four thousand eight hundred sixty-two dollars.”
Tasha’s face changed.
Not surprise.
Memory.
Marcus laughed without humor.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
She looked toward the staircase.
Then spoke quietly.
“When we split up, you stopped paying the apartment lease.”
Marcus stared.
“I moved out.”
“Your name was still on it.”
“And I paid two months.”
“Two months.”
“Tasha, we agreed you would move.”
“I was trying.”
“You said the money was safe.”
“It kept Jayden housed.”
Marcus stopped.
“What?”
“The college money.”
“You used it for rent?”
“And daycare.”
He stepped back.
“You emptied our son’s savings?”
“Our son was two.”
“So?”
“He needed a home at two more than he needed tuition at eighteen.”
Marcus’s face burned.
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
The bluntness stunned him.
Tasha’s eyes filled.
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because you would have said no.”
“You’re damn right.”
“And we would have gotten evicted.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know exactly what happened.”
She opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a battered accordion folder.
“You think I don’t keep records?”
Marcus watched her open it.
Old statements.
Receipts.
A daycare contract.
A notice from their former landlord.
She handed him a paper.
He read.
Balance Due: $2,175.
Another.
Childcare Tuition: $1,140 monthly.
Tasha pointed.
“You left in February.”
“You told me to leave.”
“We were screaming at each other every night.”
“You threw my clothes on the porch.”
“And you packed the rest.”
“This is not about that.”
“No.”
She steadied herself.
“This is about what happened afterward.”
Marcus stared at the paperwork.
Tasha continued.
“My salary barely covered rent and daycare. You paid what you thought was fair before the court order started.”
“I paid.”
“You paid four hundred here, three hundred there.”
“I was paying my own rent too.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“That’s why I used the account.”
Marcus looked up.
“You could have told me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“No. You were afraid I would stop you.”
“Yes.”
The honesty cut deeper than excuse.
Marcus dropped the documents on the counter.
“So this isn’t new.”
“What?”
“You deciding you know best and telling me afterward.”
Tasha’s expression hardened.
“And this isn’t new either.”
“What?”
“You believing that because you earned money, you control what survival is allowed to look like.”
Marcus stared.
“The account was for Jayden.”
“Jayden lived in the apartment it paid for.”
“That doesn’t make lying okay.”
“No.”
Tasha’s voice cracked.
“It doesn’t.”
He had expected resistance.
Her agreement disarmed him.
“Did you ever put it back?”
She looked down.
“No.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Nine years.
She had never replaced it.
“That’s nearly five thousand dollars.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I remember the number, Marcus.”
“Then why didn’t you rebuild it?”
“With what?”
“You’ve had nine years.”
“I’ve had nine years of rent, daycare, groceries, two more children, a divorce, legal bills, medical bills—”
“They are not Jayden’s responsibility.”
“I never said they were.”
“You keep making them his financial responsibility.”
“That account saved his home.”
“And the six hundred?”
“Helped his siblings.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Same pattern.”
Tasha leaned against the counter.
“Maybe.”
That word stopped him.
She looked exhausted.
“Maybe I have spent years deciding the emergency in front of me matters more than the promise attached to the money.”
Marcus said nothing.
“And maybe,” she continued, “I got too comfortable doing that.”
The house was quiet.
Then Jayden’s voice floated from the hallway.
“Doing what?”
Both adults turned.
He stood barefoot at the bottom of the stairs.
Marcus and Tasha exchanged a look.
Another secret had reached the child it was supposed to protect.
Jayden looked at the folder.
“What college money?”
Marcus felt his stomach drop.
Tasha whispered, “Oh, God.”
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Jayden’s face changed.
“You took money from me when I was little too?”
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