Chapter 3 - The Money Kendra Never Mentioned
Tasha remained standing in Kendra’s foyer.
“You gave Malcolm three thousand dollars?”
Kendra nodded.
“Cash?”
“Transfer.”
“When?”
“July.”
Three months earlier.
Before Malcolm supposedly lost his job.
Tasha felt the timeline rearranging itself.
“Why?”
“He called me.”
“Why didn’t he call me?”
“He said you were stressed.”
Tasha laughed bitterly.
“That was considerate.”
Kendra flinched.
“He told me he had an investment opportunity connected to his family’s property.”
“What property?”
“The house he grew up in.”
Tasha knew the house.
A brick duplex on the west side that belonged to Malcolm’s mother, Loretta.
Malcolm talked about it constantly.
His father had repaired the roof himself. His grandmother had planted roses beside the driveway. Malcolm claimed the house would someday become the family’s foundation.
“He said the taxes were behind,” Kendra continued, “and there was a short deadline.”
“So you gave him three thousand dollars without telling me.”
“I told him I was uncomfortable.”
“But you still did it.”
Kendra’s mouth tightened.
“He said he’d pay me back after refinancing.”
“Has he?”
“No.”
The answer landed softly.
That softness was worse.
Tasha walked into the living room and sat.
Kendra followed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you ask him why he wasn’t using our savings?”
“He said your savings were tied up.”
“They weren’t.”
“I know that now.”
Tasha looked at her.
“What exactly did he say the money bought?”
“A stake.”
“In the house?”
“That’s what I understood.”
Tasha pulled out her phone.
“RPH Holdings.”
Kendra nodded.
“Reed Property Holdings.”
Tasha stared at the letters.
RPH.
Of course.
“What did he promise you?”
“Nothing. I loaned it to him.”
“But he said he owned part of the property?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Kendra hesitated.
“He said his mother was restructuring ownership between him and his brother.”
“Devon?”
“Yes.”
Tasha stood.
She had met Malcolm’s older brother maybe twenty times. Devon was charming when he needed something and invisible when he didn’t.
“Did Devon know you gave Malcolm money?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about Loretta?”
“I don’t know.”
“That seems to be everybody’s favorite answer.”
Kendra reached for her arm.
Tasha stepped away.
Kendra withdrew her hand.
“You have every right to be angry with me.”
“No, Kendra. I have the right to know why people who supposedly love me keep making financial decisions around me like I’m the obstacle.”
Kendra lowered her eyes.
That was the wound.
Not simply money.
Exclusion.
Malcolm had decided she could work for the household but not know how household money was being used.
Kendra had decided silence protected her.
Both choices required treating Tasha as someone whose consent was inconvenient.
She went home after nine.
The apartment was cleaner.
Not clean.
Cleaner.
Malcolm had washed the dishes and folded half the laundry.
The controller sat untouched.
He looked hopeful when she entered.
“I applied for six jobs.”
Tasha removed her coat.
“Good.”
His face fell.
“I cleaned.”
“I see.”
“Tasha.”
She faced him.
“What?”
“You said you wanted me to start trying.”
“I did.”
“And I am.”
“Good.”
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“Because washing dishes doesn’t erase six thousand dollars.”
Malcolm looked away.
Tasha set the printed bank statement on the table.
Then Kendra’s transfer receipt.
Malcolm’s face changed.
“She told you.”
“Yes.”
He sank into a chair.
“Tasha, listen.”
“No.”
She sat opposite him.
“You listen.”
He went silent.
“What is Reed Property Holdings?”
“My family’s LLC.”
“Who owns it?”
“My mother.”
“Who else?”
“Devon.”
“Do you?”
His pause answered first.
“Not officially.”
Tasha stared.
“You sent our money to a company you do not own?”
“I’m supposed to get a percentage after the refinance.”
“Supposed to?”
“My mother promised me.”
“Is there paperwork?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
“I don’t have it here.”
“Where?”
Malcolm rubbed his hands together.
“Storage.”
Tasha’s eyes narrowed.
“The storage unit on our credit card?”
He looked up.
“You were checking my purchases?”
“Our purchases, Malcolm.”
“It was for documents.”
“You spent almost five hundred dollars at a sneaker marketplace.”
His jaw tightened.
“I resold them.”
“Where’s the profit?”
He had no answer.
Tasha leaned back.
Her exhaustion had moved beyond anger.
She felt alert now.
Dangerously alert.
“How long have you been paying money into that house?”
“A few months.”
“How much?”
“Maybe seven.”
“Seven hundred?”
He looked at the floor.
Tasha’s voice became very quiet.
“Seven thousand?”
“Approximately.”
She closed her eyes.
“With Kendra’s money?”
“And ours.”
“And what else?”
Nothing.
“Malcolm.”
“I was going to make it back.”
“What else?”
He stood suddenly.
“I said I’m handling it!”
“No, you’re hiding it!”
“I’m trying to build something!”
“With money you didn’t earn?”
His face twisted.
“I earned plenty before I lost my job.”
“Then why did you need my cousin?”
He stopped.
Tasha’s breath caught.
There was another layer.
She could see it.
“When did you actually lose your job?”
Malcolm looked toward the bedroom.
“Malcolm.”
He walked away.
Tasha followed him halfway down the hall.
“When?”
He closed the bedroom door.
Tasha stood outside it.
Then she heard his phone vibrate inside.
A moment later Malcolm spoke softly.
“Mom, I told you not to call tonight.”
Tasha’s blood went cold.
He lowered his voice, but the apartment was small.
“No, she knows about Kendra.”
Pause.
“I said I’ll fix it.”
Another pause.
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Then Malcolm said the sentence that turned suspicion into fear.
“No. She still doesn’t know about the loan.”
