Chapter 3
Rebecca hit the glass door with the flat of her hand.
“Open this door!”
The security guard looked at Daniel.
Daniel didn’t move.
Rebecca hit it again.
“I am that child’s legal guardian!”
Customers started whispering.
Charles Vance stood beside her, holding a leather briefcase.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t need to.
He simply raised a document toward the glass.
Daniel muttered, “This is going to get ugly.”
I looked at him.
“It already is.”
Rebecca saw me staring.
Her expression changed instantly.
She pressed one hand to her heart.
“Ethan!”
I stayed where I was.
“Baby, come here!”
Mr. Harris glanced at me.
I could almost see him trying to figure out how a woman wearing a coat that probably cost more than his monthly rent was related to the kid he had just shoved onto the floor.
Rebecca pointed at the lock.
“Open it!”
Daniel walked toward the entrance.
I followed him.
He looked back.
“You can stay behind the counter.”
“No.”
“Ethan.”
“If she says something about me, I want to hear it.”
Daniel studied me for a second.
Then nodded.
He stopped several feet from the door.
“Mrs. Carter, this branch is temporarily closed.”
“You have my nephew inside.”
“He entered voluntarily.”
“He is a minor.”
“I understand that.”
“Then open the door.”
Daniel glanced at Charles.
“Why is your attorney here?”
Rebecca’s face tightened.
Charles answered instead.
“My client received an automated fraud notification concerning an account connected to her guardianship responsibilities.”
Daniel froze.
I noticed.
So did Charles.
“What notification?” Daniel asked.
Charles gave a thin smile.
“Open the door, and we can discuss it properly.”
Daniel looked back toward the teller stations.
“Automated notifications on this type of trust are not sent to guardians.”
Charles’s smile disappeared.
Rebecca stepped closer to the glass.
“Daniel.”
That surprised me.
“You know him?” I asked.
Rebecca ignored me.
Daniel didn’t.
He looked at Rebecca.
“How do you know my name?”
Her eyes flickered.
Just once.
But I saw it.
“So you don’t know each other,” I said.
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Mrs. Carter, answer the question.”
Charles stepped forward.
“This is becoming unnecessarily hostile.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It became hostile when someone outside this branch knew a protected account had been accessed less than fifteen minutes after the access occurred.”
Rebecca glared at him.
“Ethan is coming with me.”
I stepped beside Daniel.
“No.”
Her face softened.
“Sweetheart—”
“Don’t call me that.”
Pain flashed across her face.
Maybe it was real.
Maybe it wasn’t.
I didn’t care.
“You put my clothes outside in garbage bags.”
“I was trying to discipline you.”
“You told me I was exactly like my father.”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened.
“You were.”
“You said it like an insult.”
For a second, neither of us spoke.
I remembered that night.
Rain hitting the porch.
Her boyfriend Troy standing behind her.
My backpack on the sidewalk.
Rebecca screaming that my father had ruined everyone around him.
At the time, I thought she meant emotionally.
Now I wondered what else she meant.
Daniel turned to the guard.
“Call Chicago police. Tell them we have a guardianship dispute involving a minor and possible financial interference.”
Charles immediately raised his voice.
“Do not do that.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because you are escalating a private family matter.”
“My account isn’t private?” I asked.
Charles looked at me for the first time.
Really looked at me.
His eyes were cold.
“Ethan, your aunt has spent four years caring for you.”
“She got checks.”
Rebecca spun toward him.
“Charles.”
Too late.
I stared at her.
“What checks?”
Rebecca’s face changed.
Charles looked irritated with himself.
I stepped closer to the glass.
“What checks?”
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“Survivor benefits.”
“How much?”
“Ethan, that isn’t important.”
“It is to me.”
“I used that money to take care of you.”
“I wore shoes with holes.”
“You destroyed every pair I bought.”
“That’s a lie.”
Her cheeks flushed.
“Do not speak to me that way.”
There she was.
The real Rebecca.
Not sweetheart.
Not baby.
The woman who could turn cold in one breath.
Daniel said, “How much did she receive?”
Charles snapped, “That is none of your business.”
“It may be Ethan’s.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated.
Rebecca hit the glass again.
“Do not talk to him about this.”
Daniel’s eyes stayed on mine.
“Your father’s estate may have had a separate maintenance provision.”
“How much?”
“We’d need records.”
Rebecca shouted, “Daniel!”
He ignored her.
“Potentially tens of thousands a month.”
Everything inside me went still.
I turned back toward my aunt.
“Is that true?”
She stared at me through the glass.
“Ethan.”
“Was Dad paying you to take care of me?”
“No.”
Charles said, “Rebecca, don’t answer.”
That told me enough.
I felt sick.
All those nights I went to bed hungry because Rebecca said groceries were expensive.
The school field trip I couldn’t attend because she said forty dollars was too much.
The winter she told me I had to keep wearing Dad’s old jacket because I needed to learn that life didn’t hand people things.
The three hundred dollars she took from the envelope where I had been saving money from cleaning the auto shop.
She said it was for rent.
“What did you do with it?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.
“You don’t understand what it cost to raise you.”
“I barely lived with you.”
“You were difficult.”
“I was nine when Dad died!”
Several customers went silent.
Even through the glass, Rebecca seemed startled by how loud I was.
My voice cracked.
“I woke up screaming every night because I kept seeing his car.”
She looked away.
“You told me to grow up.”
“Ethan—”
“You told me therapy was too expensive.”
Her face collapsed for one second.
I saw guilt.
Then Charles touched her arm.
And it disappeared.
He leaned toward her and whispered.
I couldn’t hear the words.
But Rebecca immediately straightened.
She wiped her face.
Then Charles lifted the document again.
“Mr. Reeves, this is a certified emergency guardianship order confirming Rebecca Carter’s authority over Ethan Carter’s financial decisions.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
“Effective when?”
“Immediately.”
“Signed by whom?”
“Judge Alan Whitmore.”
Daniel went very still.
“What?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.”
Charles smiled faintly.
“You recognize the name.”
Daniel turned away from the door.
He walked quickly back to his workstation.
I followed.
“What is it?”
He started typing.
“Judge Whitmore handled probate proceedings after your father’s death.”
My stomach turned.
“The same judge?”
“Yes.”
“Is that bad?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Daniel pulled up something on his screen.
He read.
His jaw tightened.
Then he grabbed the phone.
“Legal department. Now.”
Rebecca started pounding on the door again.
A few customers pulled out phones.
Mr. Harris stepped toward them.
“Please don’t record.”
A woman snapped, “I watched you shove that boy. I’m recording everything.”
Mr. Harris backed away.
Good.
Daniel was speaking rapidly into the phone.
“Carter trust. Number ending four-one-nine-eight. Minor beneficiary has appeared in person. We have a claimed emergency guardianship order.”
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What do you mean there is already a transfer request?”
I felt cold.
“What transfer?”
Daniel raised one finger, telling me to wait.
I didn’t.
“What transfer?”
He put the call on speaker.
A woman’s voice came through.
“Mr. Reeves, the system shows a pending request initiated at 9:07 this morning.”
I looked at the clock.
It was 10:42.
Daniel asked, “Amount?”
There was keyboard clicking.
“Forty-six million dollars.”
The entire counter area went silent.
I looked toward Rebecca.
She could not hear the speaker through the glass.
But she saw our faces.
And I saw hers.
No surprise.
None.
Daniel asked, “Destination?”
The woman hesitated.
“An escrow account controlled by Vance Family Legal Services.”
Everyone turned toward Charles.
His face changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
I walked back toward the door.
“Forty-six million?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Ethan, listen to me.”
“You tried to take it.”
“No.”
“Your lawyer did.”
Charles stepped closer.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
“Then why is your name on the account?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Charles hissed something at her.
She opened them again.
“Your father owed me.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“What?”
“He owed all of us.”
“Who is us?”
She looked at me.
“Your family.”
“My family?”
“You think Michael was some wonderful man because he packed your lunch and coached your stupid little basketball team?”
My throat tightened.
Rebecca was crying now.
But she was angry too.
“He destroyed our family.”
“What did he do?”
“He took everything.”
Charles grabbed her arm.
“That’s enough.”
Rebecca yanked away.
“No. He wants to know? Fine.”
She looked directly at me.
“Your grandfather built the first Carter business.”
I frowned.
“Dad said Grandpa worked construction.”
“He did. And then he built a company. Your father took control after Grandpa got sick.”
Daniel had returned to the doorway.
He was listening now too.
Rebecca continued.
“Michael promised to protect everyone.”
“What happened?”
“He locked us out.”
“Why?”
Her face twisted.
“Because he thought we were stealing from him.”
I remembered my father’s letter.
Money makes strangers friendly and relatives dangerous.
“Were you?”
Rebecca stared at me.
That was all the answer I needed.
I stepped back.
She saw it.
“No. Don’t you dare look at me like that.”
“You tried to move forty-six million dollars this morning.”
“To protect it!”
“From who?”
“From people who will manipulate you.”
“Like you?”
She flinched.
Then Charles held the court order up again.
“Enough. Open the door.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Charles turned.
Two Chicago police cars pulled up behind the SUV.
Rebecca whispered, “You idiot.”
I didn’t know if she meant Daniel.
Me.
Or Charles.
Two officers approached the bank.
Daniel let them in.
Rebecca and Charles entered behind them, talking over each other.
The lobby exploded with noise.
“She is my client’s legal guardian.”
“They are withholding a minor.”
“He accessed a protected trust.”
“I want my nephew released immediately.”
One officer raised both hands.
“Everybody stop.”
He pointed to Rebecca.
“You’re guardian?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“You live with her?”
“No.”
Rebecca interrupted.
“He ran away.”
“I didn’t run away.”
“He has behavioral issues.”
My stomach dropped.
She had used those words before.
Every time a teacher asked why I was tired.
Every time a neighbor asked why she was yelling.
Behavioral issues.
The officer looked at me.
“How long have you been away from her home?”
“Three months.”
His eyes snapped toward Rebecca.
“You didn’t report him missing?”
She hesitated.
Charles answered.
“There were ongoing private arrangements.”
The officer’s expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
Nobody answered.
Then the bank employee who had found the file hurried from the back again.
She was holding another envelope.
“Mr. Reeves.”
Daniel turned.
“What now?”
“This was inside the original Carter file. It’s sealed.”
He took it.
Across the front was typed:
TO BE OPENED ONLY IF ETHAN CARTER APPEARS IN PERSON AFTER AGE THIRTEEN.
Below that was a second line.
IF REBECCA CARTER OR CHARLES VANCE IS PRESENT, CONTACT FEDERAL AUTHORITIES BEFORE DISCLOSURE.
Everyone stared at the envelope.
Rebecca stopped breathing.
Charles’s face drained of color.
May you like
And for the first time that morning, I saw something stronger than greed in their eyes.
Fear.
