Chapter 2: The Money She Never Saw
Isaiah didn't answer immediately.
He stood in the middle of the garage, holding his phone while Zoe remained on the floor surrounded by broken pieces of yellow plastic and metal.
"Four thousand eight hundred dollars," he finally said.
Zoe blinked.
"What?""
"That's what I transferred to Denise.""
Her mouth fell open.
Four thousand eight hundred dollars.
She thought about the replacement motor she'd needed in September. The one she'd spent three evenings trying to repair with a soldering iron borrowed from the school workshop.
She thought about the sensors she'd ordered from a discount website, paying for them with money from babysitting a neighbor's children.
She thought about the secondhand laptop she'd nearly lost because she couldn't afford the replacement charger.
Four thousand eight hundred dollars.
"Why didn't you tell me?"" she whispered.
Isaiah crouched beside her.
"I thought you knew, sweetheart. Denise said she'd taken care of everything.""
Zoe looked toward her stepmother.
Denise's hands were clasped tightly in front of her.
"Isaiah, I can explain.""
"Then explain.""
"Not in front of the children.""
Isaiah glanced at Malik.
"Your son is twenty years old. He's old enough to watch his mother explain where nearly five thousand dollars went.""
Malik crossed his arms.
"Why are you acting like she stole something? Maybe she used it for household expenses.""
Zoe stared at him.
"I was working with broken parts while you got a three-thousand-dollar drone.""
Malik rolled his eyes.
"You always make everything about you.""
"Because it was money for me!""
"Zoe," Denise snapped, "watch your tone.""
Isaiah stood.
"Don't correct her. Answer me.""
Denise took a breath.
"I was handling the household. Your payments weren't always enough to cover everything.""
Isaiah frowned.
"That money wasn't for the household. I sent separate money for the household.""
"Things are expensive, Isaiah.""
"Then show me where it went.""
Denise looked toward the open garage door.
A cold breeze moved through the room, lifting a loose instruction sheet from Zoe's workbench.
Isaiah opened the transaction details.
"March twelfth. Four hundred dollars. March twenty-eighth.
Eight hundred. April fifteenth. Another eight hundred.""
He scrolled.
"May second. Six hundred. May twenty-first.
One thousand. June third. Twelve hundred.""
He turned the phone toward her.
"Every transfer was marked for Zoe's competition.""
Denise's lips tightened.
"I didn't keep a separate account.""
"Then where is it?""
"I used some of it for things the family needed.""
"What things?""
She hesitated.
Malik suddenly stepped forward.
"Mom bought me the drone before my birthday. Why are you dragging me into this?""
Isaiah looked at him.
"Because your mother told my daughter her father didn't want to invest in her future while she was standing ten feet away from a machine she built with discarded parts.""
Malik shook his head.
"I didn't know about the money.""
Zoe looked at him.
"You knew I didn't have anything. You knew I was saving every dollar.""
"I didn't ask you to build that thing.""
"No," Zoe said.
"You just broke it.""
Malik opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Isaiah looked back at Denise.
"I want the truth.""
Denise's voice dropped.
"I was going to tell you.""
"When?""
"After the competition.""
"What competition? The one she can no longer enter because your son destroyed her robot?""
Denise flinched.
Zoe lowered her head.
She remembered the letter she'd received two weeks earlier.
The final selection event was scheduled for Saturday morning at the Detroit Innovation Center. Every finalist had to demonstrate a functioning prototype.
Her robot had been the result of four months of careful work.
Now the arm lay broken in her lap.
She ran her thumb along a scratch in the yellow paint.
"I can rebuild it," she whispered.
Isaiah turned toward her.
"What, baby?""
Zoe wiped her cheek.
"I can try. I still have the spare motors. Maybe the control board survived.""
Malik let out a short laugh.
"You're seriously going to try fixing that?""
Isaiah looked at him.
"One more word.""
Malik closed his mouth.
Denise seized the opportunity to move the conversation away from the money.
"See? Zoe is fine. She's already talking about fixing it. There's no reason to make this bigger than it needs to be.""
Isaiah slowly turned toward her.
"She's seventeen. She shouldn't have to repair something her brother deliberately destroyed while you stood there encouraging him.""
"I did not encourage him.""
Isaiah's eyes narrowed.
"Then why were you smiling?""
Denise said nothing.
A few seconds later, Isaiah picked up his travel bag.
"Zoe, go inside and wash your hands. I'll help you clean up what's left.""
Zoe hesitated.
"But Dad—"
"Go, sweetheart.""
She gathered the broken robotic arm and carried it inside.
As she passed Denise, her stepmother stepped aside without meeting her eyes.
Malik followed his mother toward the kitchen.
The moment Zoe disappeared, Denise lowered her voice.
"You need to stop embarrassing me.""
Isaiah turned.
"Embarrassing you?""
"You're acting like I'm some criminal.""
"Then give me an honest explanation.""
"I spent money keeping this house running.""
"Which money?""
Denise looked away.
Isaiah took a step closer.
"Don't make me ask again.""
She folded her arms.
"I don't have to account for every dollar I spend in my own home.""
Isaiah stared at her.
"That money wasn't yours.""
Denise's expression hardened.
"You've been gone for months, Isaiah. You don't know what happens here. You don't know how difficult it is raising two children.""
"One of them isn't my responsibility financially.""
The sentence came out before he could soften it.
Denise's eyes flashed.
"Malik is my son!""
"And Zoe is mine.""
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Denise looked toward the hallway.
"Your daughter has always been jealous of Malik. She thinks everything he gets should belong to her.""
Isaiah shook his head.
"She wanted a thirty-dollar motor. You bought your son a three-thousand-dollar drone.""
"Because he needed it.""
"For what?""
"He has interests too!""
"Then why didn't you support hers?""
Denise had no answer.
Isaiah put his phone back into his pocket.
"I'm going to find out exactly where that money went.""
He walked into the house.
Denise remained in the garage.
She looked at the broken drone.
Then at the yellow robot.
Her eyes settled on the workbench, where Zoe had left a small notebook filled with handwritten diagrams.
She picked it up.
On the first page was a photograph of Zoe holding the finished robot, smiling so widely that her eyes were almost closed.
Beneath the picture, Zoe had written:
My first real invention. One day, I want to build machines that make people's lives easier.
Denise stared at the words.
Then she closed the notebook.
She walked into the kitchen, where Malik was sitting at the island, scrolling through his phone.
"Mom, Dad's seriously crazy," he said.
"He destroyed my drone.""
Denise placed Zoe's notebook on the counter.
"Don't worry about the drone.""
Malik looked up.
"Then what?""
Denise leaned closer.
"Your father is going to start asking questions. I need you to remember something.""
"What?""
"Whatever happened to that money, you never saw it.""
Malik frowned.
"Why would I know anything about the money?""
"Because I need you to keep your mouth shut.""
He stared at her.
Then his expression changed.
"Mom... did you use it to buy my drone?""
May you like
Denise didn't answer.
And Malik suddenly understood that the broken machine on the garage floor might be the smallest problem they had.
