Chapter 5
I thought I had misunderstood him.
“Nia's what?”
Curtis wouldn't look at me.
“Social Security number.”
My stomach turned.
“You used a nine-year-old's Social Security number?”
“It wasn't supposed to become a problem.”
I stepped closer.
“It became a problem the second you did it.”
“Keep your voice down.”
“No.”
Andre opened the apartment door behind me.
“You good?”
“No,” I said.
Curtis glanced at him.
“This is family business.”
Andre looked at me.
I shook my head slightly.
He went back inside but left the door cracked.
I appreciated that.
Curtis lowered his voice.
“I only opened one account.”
“In Nia's name.”
“It was a small limit.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred.”
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
“Eight hundred dollars is a small limit when you're stealing from a child?”
“I wasn't stealing.”
“You opened credit in her name without permission.”
“I was going to pay it.”
“With what?”
He didn't answer.
I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
“Does Mom know about Nia's account?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She found her card first. We started arguing. I left.”
I pulled out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Mom.”
Curtis grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
I pulled away.
“Touch me again and this conversation ends differently.”
His hands dropped.
“Malik, listen.”
“No. You listen.”
He stared at me.
“If you used Nia's identity, Mom needs to know immediately.”
“You're going to ruin my life.”
I almost shouted.
“You did this!”
“I can fix it!”
“How?”
“I need a little money.”
There it was.
I stared at him.
“You came here for money.”
“I came because you're my brother.”
“You came because Mom kicked you out and you need me to clean this up.”
He didn't deny it.
“How much?”
“If I can get twelve hundred—”
“No.”
“You didn't even let me finish.”
“I don't need to.”
“Man, come on.”
“No.”
“I can clear the balance.”
“No.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Tell the truth.”
His eyes widened.
“To Mom?”
“To Mom. To the credit companies. To whoever needs to know.”
“You want me arrested?”
“I want Nia protected.”
“She won't even know!”
“She'll know when she's eighteen and tries to get a student loan.”
“I'll fix it before then.”
“You haven't fixed anything in your own life for months.”
That hit him.
His face changed.
For a second, I saw shame.
Then anger covered it.
“You really think you're better than me.”
“I don't.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I think what you did is wrong.”
He stepped backward.
“Whatever.”
I called Mom.
She answered immediately.
“Did Curtis get there?”
“You gave him my address?”
“He said he needed to talk to you.”
“Did you know he was coming?”
“He called from the bus.”
I looked at Curtis.
He shrugged.
“Mom, there's something else you need to know.”
Curtis moved toward the stairs.
I blocked him.
“What?”
Mom sounded tired.
I took a breath.
“Ask Curtis what he opened in Nia's name.”
Silence.
Then Mom said, “What are you talking about?”
Curtis cursed.
“Malik.”
“What did he open?”
Mom's voice was sharper now.
“Curtis used Nia's Social Security number for a credit account.”
Nothing.
Not even breathing.
Then Mom whispered, “No.”
Curtis leaned toward my phone.
“Mom, listen—”
“No.”
Her voice changed.
I'd never heard it sound like that.
Not angry.
Broken.
“Curtis, tell me he is lying.”
He rubbed his face.
“It wasn't like that.”
“Tell me he's lying.”
“I was going to pay it off.”
Mom made a sound I never want to hear again.
Like someone had punched all the air out of her.
“You used your sister?”
“It was one card.”
“She is nine!”
“I know how old she is.”
“Do you?”
Curtis looked away.
Mom started crying.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then she said, “I'm calling the police.”
Curtis's head snapped up.
“Mom!”
“You stole from me.”
“I borrowed—”
“You stole from your sister.”
“Mom, don't do this.”
“You did this.”
He grabbed his duffel bag.
I stepped aside.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
Mom was still on the line.
“Malik, don't let him leave.”
“What do you want me to do? Hold him?”
“Curtis!”
He was already walking down the stairs.
Mom shouted his name again.
He disappeared.
I stood in the hallway.
“Mom, listen to me.”
She was crying harder.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“First, breathe.”
“He ruined her credit.”
“We don't know how bad it is yet.”
“I gave him everything.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
I almost laughed at the irony.
But this wasn't the moment.
“I kept helping him because I thought if I stopped, he'd fall apart.”
I leaned against the wall.
“He did anyway.”
Mom went quiet.
That truth hurt both of us.
I spent the next hour helping her make calls.
We froze Nia's credit.
We contacted the issuer.
We documented the account.
Mom filed an identity theft report.
Then she called the police.
Curtis disappeared.
For two days, nobody knew where he was.
His phone was off.
His social media went silent.
Mom barely slept.
Nia knew something was wrong.
We told her Curtis had made a serious mistake.
We did not tell her all the financial details.
She was nine.
She deserved to be nine.
On Monday, Mom called me before training.
“I'm sorry.”
I thought she'd called the wrong person.
“For what?”
“For what I said before you left.”
I sat on the edge of my bed.
Mom continued.
“You weren't acting better than us.”
I didn't answer.
“You were tired.”
“Yes.”
“I didn't see it.”
“Yes.”
“I should've.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
She started crying.
“I kept telling myself you were strong.”
I stared at the floor.
“You were strong like your father. Responsible. Calm. I told myself you didn't mind helping.”
“I minded.”
“I know.”
“I just didn't know how to stop.”
“I know.”
“No, Mom.”
My voice cracked.
“You don't.”
She went silent.
“I was nineteen when I started paying the electric bill.”
“I remember.”
“I was scared every month.”
“Malik—”
“I'd check my account ten times a day because I knew if I spent twenty dollars on myself, you might need it.”
She started crying harder.
“I skipped lunches at work.”
“Oh, baby.”
“I told everybody I wasn't hungry.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time I tried to talk about money, you got defensive.”
Silence.
“I thought helping meant never making you feel bad.”
Mom whispered, “I'm sorry.”
I wiped my eyes angrily.
“I don't want an apology if nothing changes.”
“It will.”
“Curtis can't come back and have everything go back to normal.”
“It won't.”
“You can't keep making Nia dependent on me.”
“I know.”
“And you can't make me feel guilty every time I say no.”
“I know.”
I waited.
Then Mom said, “I got a second job.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Weekend receptionist at a nursing home.”
“When did that happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“Mom, you already work full time.”
“I need to catch up.”
“What about Nia?”
“Aunt Renee is helping on weekends.”
That surprised me even more.
“You talked to Aunt Renee?”
“We apologized to each other.”
“Both of you?”
“Don't sound so shocked.”
I laughed.
For the first time in weeks, Mom laughed too.
It was small.
But it mattered.
Then she said, “There's something else.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What?”
“I found letters.”
“What letters?”
“In Curtis's room.”
I waited.
“Collection notices.”
“How much?”
“More than I knew.”
“How much?”
“Almost twelve thousand dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
“Credit cards?”
“Some. One personal loan.”
“In his name?”
“Yes.”
“At least that's something.”
Mom didn't respond.
“Mom?”
“There was another envelope.”
My stomach dropped.
“What was it?”
“A notice from the landlord.”
“What kind of notice?”
She hesitated.
Then said, “Apparently Curtis told the landlord he was authorized to negotiate our lease.”
“What?”
“He signed something.”
“What did he sign?”
“A repayment agreement.”
“For what?”
Mom's voice shook.
“Back rent.”
I sat straight up.
“You said the rent was current before I left.”
“I thought it was.”
“How much back rent?”
“Three months.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I gave Curtis the rent twice when I worked late. He told me he paid it.”
I felt sick.
“He didn't.”
“No.”
“Where did the money go?”
“I don't know.”
“When is the deadline?”
“Friday.”
“What happens Friday?”
Mom took a shaky breath.
“We have to pay twenty-seven hundred dollars.”
“And if you don't?”
“They start the eviction.”
I looked at the time.
Training started in ten minutes.
My first instinct was automatic.
Check savings.
Check available money.
Figure out what I could send.
Then Aunt Renee's voice returned to me.
Let her mother feel the weight of being her mother.
I took a breath.
“How much can you raise?”
“I have eight hundred.”
“What about Uncle Darnell?”
“I still owe him from last week.”
“Aunt Renee?”
“She offered some, but I don't want—”
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“Don't reject help because you're embarrassed.”
She went quiet.
“I spent years doing that.”
“I know.”
“No, I'm serious. Pride doesn't pay bills.”
She exhaled.
“I'll ask her.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
There it was.
Not demanding.
Just asking.
And somehow that made it harder.
I looked at the two hundred dollars I'd finally saved.
Then at my new work boots by the door.
“I can send two hundred.”
“Malik, no.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“No.”
“You need—”
“I said no.”
“Mom.”
“You just started.”
“I can help.”
“You already have.”
Her voice trembled.
“You paid enough.”
I stared at nothing.
For years, I had wanted to hear those words.
Now that I finally did, I didn't know what to do with them.
Mom continued.
“I will figure it out.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
We both laughed sadly.
“But I'm going to.”
After we hung up, I went to training.
That afternoon, Mr. Harris pulled me aside.
“You've improved.”
“Thank you.”
“We have a commercial job starting next week.”
I waited.
“They need two first-year apprentices.”
My heart jumped.
“I want your name on it.”
“Seriously?”
“Don't make me regret it.”
“I won't.”
“Job has overtime.”
Even better.
“How much?”
“Could be fifty hours a week.”
I smiled.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
I opened it.
Curtis.
Don't tell Mom this number.
I need your help.
I almost deleted it.
Then another message appeared.
I'm not asking for money.
I stared at the screen.
A third message came through.
The money from Mom's rent didn't go to shoes.
I typed back.
Where did it go?
The reply took almost a minute.
When it came, I read it three times.
I owe some people.
May you like
Then another message.
And they know where Mom lives.
