Chapter 17 - Malik’s Mother
Denise Carter sounded exhausted.
Not angry.
Not yet.
“I found cash in Malik’s room.”
Monique looked at Derrick.
“How much?”
“Three thousand two hundred dollars.”
Jaylen, called downstairs before the conversation began, went pale.
Denise heard the silence.
“Jaylen knows.”
Derrick looked at his son.
“Do you?”
Jaylen rubbed his palms against his jeans.
“Some.”
“How much is some?”
“Carter sold more than tests.”
Denise’s voice sharpened.
“What?”
Jaylen stared at the table.
“Recruiting information.”
Derrick frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Lawson would tell him which camps had real scouts, which teams were watching which players.”
“That information is worth three thousand dollars?”
“No.”
Jaylen swallowed.
“Not by itself.”
Denise said:
“Jaylen, tell me.”
“He sold introductions.”
Monique stared.
“To who?”
“Parents.”
“How can a sixteen-year-old sell introductions?”
“He couldn’t.”
Everyone understood.
Lawson.
Jaylen continued.
“Parents paid Carter. Carter passed some to Lawson.”
Denise made a sound like the air had been knocked from her.
“My husband.”
“What about him?” Derrick asked.
“He gave Malik money last summer.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he know what it was for?”
Denise became quiet.
“I think he knew it was to help with recruiting.”
Derrick closed his eyes.
Another parent.
Another line crossed while pretending not to see the line.
Denise whispered:
“I thought it was tournament fees.”
Monique said quietly:
“So did I.”
The women understood each other instantly.
Not innocence.
Not guilt.
The middle space where fear made people stop asking.
Denise continued.
“Malik’s father and I are separated.”
Jaylen looked surprised.
“He didn’t tell me.”
“We haven’t told many people.”
Her voice tightened.
“Charles has been obsessed with basketball since Malik was little. Trainers. Camps. Travel teams.”
Derrick looked at Jaylen.
Different fathers.
Different pressures.
Similar sons.
Denise said:
“When Malik didn’t grow as tall as expected, Charles started pushing harder.”
Monique asked:
“Do you think Malik threatened Marcus because he was protecting his father?”
“Yes.”
Jaylen whispered:
“Probably.”
Denise said:
“I need Malik to tell the truth.”
Derrick answered:
“Then you may have to let him lose things.”
Silence.
He heard his own words differently now.
Not triumphant.
Heavy.
Denise said:
“I know.”
After the call, Jaylen went upstairs.
Renee remained at the table.
Monique looked at her.
“What?”
Renee smiled faintly.
“Nobody rescued anybody.”
Derrick shook his head.
“Don’t celebrate yet.”
“I’m not.”
Renee looked toward the stairs.
“I’m noticing.”
Later, Derrick went to Jaylen’s room.
The door was open.
Jaylen was writing.
Derrick knocked anyway.
Jaylen looked back.
“You can come in.”
Derrick sat on the desk chair.
“What are you working on?”
“Essay.”
“You want help?”
Jaylen gave him a suspicious look.
“Like Ellis help?”
Derrick almost smiled.
“No.”
“I’m good.”
Derrick nodded.
He started to leave.
Jaylen stopped him.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you really think B’s were bad?”
Derrick sat again.
“No.”
“That’s not what it felt like.”
Derrick thought.
“When I was your age, basketball got me out.”
“Out of what?”
“Our neighborhood. Your grandfather’s job sites. Feeling like everything had already been decided.”
Jaylen listened.
“A scholarship felt like proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That I was going somewhere.”
Jaylen looked at the laptop.
“So you wanted that for me.”
“Yes.”
“Even though we already live somewhere nice.”
Derrick laughed softly.
“Apparently fear doesn’t update its address.”
Jaylen looked at him.
That sounded like Renee.
Derrick continued.
“When you got a B, I didn’t see a B.”
“What did you see?”
“Possibility slipping.”
Jaylen frowned.
“That’s crazy.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised him.
Derrick leaned back.
“I put meaning on your grades that belonged to my life.”
Jaylen swallowed.
“I still cheated.”
“Yes.”
“You’re always gonna add that.”
“For a while.”
Jaylen smiled faintly.
Then Derrick said:
“But I pushed you in ways I didn’t understand.”
Jaylen looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
There was silence.
Then Jaylen said:
“I’m sorry too.”
Not dramatic.
No hug.
Just two people admitting separate failures without exchanging them like debts.
Derrick stood.
At the doorway Jaylen asked:
“When I get basketball back, are you gonna be weird?”
“What does that mean?”
“Like yelling about scouts.”
Derrick smiled.
“Probably less weird.”
Jaylen nodded.
“I can work with that.”
Downstairs Monique was organizing financial records for Simone.
She found one invoice she had never noticed.
September.
Ellis Academic Consulting.
$4,800.
At the bottom, in tiny text:
Referral commission: R. Lawson — $960.
Monique stared.
Proof that Lawson financially benefited from her payment.
Then she noticed another line.
Referral source: D. Hall.
Her heart stopped.
She looked upstairs.
Derrick had said he barely knew Lawson before Jaylen joined the team.
Why would Ellis’s invoice identify Derrick as the referral source?
She waited until Derrick came downstairs.
Then placed the invoice in front of him.
He read it.
His face went blank.
Monique folded her arms.
“You want to explain why your name is on this?”
Derrick stared at the page.
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
“I never referred you to Ellis.”
“Then why does it say D. Hall?”
Renee took the invoice.
Then frowned.
“Maybe D.H. from the old payment chart wasn’t DeShawn.”
Derrick looked at her.
Renee’s expression changed.
“Maybe we’ve been reading the initials wrong.”
She pointed at the invoice.
“D. Hall might not mean Derrick Hall.”
Monique frowned.
“Who else?”
Renee looked at Derrick.
And suddenly he understood.
Their father.
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Donovan Hall.
The man Derrick had spent his entire adult life believing taught him discipline.
