Chapter 5 - The Account Ending in 4418
Malcolm stared at the balance.
Four hundred twelve dollars and sixty-three cents.
That was what remained in the account he and Tasha called their future fund.
Two weeks earlier, it had held more than fourteen thousand.
Malcolm looked at her.
“Where is the money?”
“It’s safe.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Tasha moved toward him.
“Malcolm, please.”
He stepped away.
“What account is forty-four eighteen?”
“My savings.”
The answer landed almost as badly as the hidden emails.
“Your savings?”
“Yes.”
“You moved our money into your account?”
“I didn’t steal it.”
“Then send it back.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
She reached for her phone.
Then stopped.
Malcolm noticed.
“Why are you hesitating?”
“Because you’re angry.”
“I’m supposed to be.”
“And I don’t want you making some huge decision while you’re furious.”
He stared at her.
“Like moving my money?”
“That isn’t the same.”
“It’s exactly the same.”
“No. I was protecting what we built.”
“You keep using that word.”
“Because it’s true.”
Malcolm’s voice rose.
“Protection does not mean you become the only person allowed to choose!”
Tasha flinched.
He opened the account history.
Transfers appeared over several months.
$750.
$1,200.
$500.
$2,100.
Amounts small enough that Malcolm had apparently missed them among rent, groceries and automated payments.
“All of these went to you?”
Tasha remained silent.
He scrolled farther.
There were eleven transfers.
Total: $13,620.
Malcolm sat down.
He had contributed most of that money.
Not all.
But most.
Tasha worked in medical billing and earned less than he did. Their agreement had been simple: Malcolm covered sixty percent of household costs, Tasha forty, and both put what they could into savings for a future house.
He had trusted the balance without examining every transfer.
“How much is in your account?”
“Almost fifteen.”
“Fifteen thousand?”
“Yes.”
“So there’s more than what you moved from joint savings.”
“My own money is there too.”
“Send back the joint money.”
“I said I will.”
“Now.”
Tasha’s face tightened.
“You’re going to leave.”
Malcolm laughed in disbelief.
“So this is hostage money?”
“No.”
“What do you call it?”
“I knew the second you found those emails, you’d react.”
“You transferred three thousand dollars after I left this morning.”
“I panicked.”
“You keep panicking in ways that cost me things.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Unfair?”
His voice cracked.
He stood.
“Three years of interviews, offers and opportunities, and now fourteen thousand dollars.”
“I wasn’t spending it.”
“That’s not the point!”
“What is the point, Malcolm?”
“The point is you keep deciding that if you’re scared, my consent becomes optional.”
Tasha looked down.
Malcolm called Andre.
His brother answered immediately.
“You good?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“I need you upstairs.”
“I’m coming.”
Tasha shook her head.
“Why does Andre have to be part of everything?”
“He isn’t.”
“You tell him every problem we have.”
“I didn’t tell him about this problem. He walked into it.”
“He hates me.”
“He’s furious because you sabotaged me.”
“You think he’s going to tell you anything except leave me?”
Malcolm looked at her.
“I haven’t asked him what I should do.”
“But you will.”
“No.”
“Malcolm—”
“I’m asking myself.”
A knock sounded.
Andre entered.
Malcolm showed him the bank records.
Andre’s eyebrows rose.
“How much?”
“Almost fourteen.”
Tasha stepped forward.
“It’s not stolen. It’s in my account.”
Andre looked at Malcolm.
“Joint account?”
“Yes.”
Andre nodded slowly.
“Legally, if both names are on it, moving money can get complicated. But you need to protect what’s left and document everything.”
Tasha scoffed.
“Now you’re his lawyer?”
“No. I’m his brother.”
“You’ve wanted him to leave me for years.”
Andre’s expression changed.
“What?”
“You act protective, but you’ve never thought I was good enough.”
“I thought you were controlling.”
Malcolm turned.
“You thought what?”
Andre immediately looked uncomfortable.
Tasha crossed her arms.
“Tell him.”
“Andre.”
Andre exhaled.
“There were things.”
“What things?”
“Not now.”
“No. Right now.”
Andre rubbed his beard.
“Two years ago, when you were thinking about that certification program in Chicago—”
Malcolm remembered.
A three-week executive operations course.
He had ultimately decided against it because the cost seemed irresponsible.
“Tasha called me.”
The room went silent.
“She what?”
“She said you were obsessed with getting ahead and not seeing what it was doing to your relationship.”
Malcolm looked at Tasha.
“You called him?”
“I needed somebody you trusted.”
Andre continued.
“She asked me to talk you out of going.”
Malcolm’s eyes returned to his brother.
“Did you?”
Andre looked ashamed.
“Yeah.”
The betrayal shifted shape.
Malcolm remembered sitting with Andre at a sports bar.
Andre had said the program seemed overpriced.
He had told Malcolm there would be other opportunities.
Malcolm had listened.
“You knew?”
“I knew she was worried. I didn’t know she was in your email.”
“You helped her.”
“I thought I was helping you two.”
Tasha spoke quietly.
“Because you understood.”
Andre rounded on her.
“Don’t you dare.”
“You did.”
“I gave my brother bad advice because you lied about what was happening.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You told me he was putting you into debt for that course.”
Malcolm stared at Tasha.
The program would have been paid from his own professional-development savings.
“We weren’t in debt.”
Tasha’s face went pale.
Andre nodded.
“That’s what she told me.”
Malcolm could almost feel old memories rearranging themselves.
Conversations he had thought were independent.
Decisions he had believed were his.
Tasha’s influence had not always been direct.
Sometimes she had recruited people around him.
Sometimes she had changed the information they were given.
And sometimes she had simply waited for Malcolm to make a decision based on a reality she had quietly edited.
His phone rang.
Bellweather.
Everyone went silent.
Malcolm answered.
“Elena?”
“Hi, Malcolm. The team enjoyed meeting you.”
His pulse jumped.
“That’s good to hear.”
“We’d like to move you to the final stage.”
Tasha closed her eyes.
Malcolm turned away from her.
Elena continued.
“There is one complication. Because this role involves access to sensitive vendor systems, our hiring manager wants to discuss what happened with your email this morning.”
“I understand.”
“We’re not withdrawing you.”
Malcolm exhaled.
“But we need clarity.”
“You’ll have it.”
“Can you come back Thursday?”
“Yes.”
After the call, Malcolm lowered the phone.
Andre smiled faintly.
“You got another round?”
“Yes.”
Tasha’s eyes filled.
“That’s good.”
Malcolm looked at her.
He wanted to feel relief.
Instead, something colder had taken its place.
He reopened his banking app.
Then he saw a recurring monthly transaction he had never questioned.
North Harbor Property Services — $385.00
He frowned.
“What's this?”
Tasha froze.
Andre leaned toward the screen.
Malcolm clicked the payment history.
The charge had occurred every month for eighteen months.
He looked at Tasha.
“We don’t use North Harbor.”
She said nothing.
“Tasha, what is North Harbor Property Services?”
Her silence returned.
But this time Malcolm had learned what silence meant.
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It did not mean she had no answer.
It meant the answer was worse than the question.
