Chapter 3: The Receipt in the Drawer
The next morning, Zoe woke to the sound of a printer running downstairs.
She had barely slept.
Her broken robot sat on the bedroom desk, its yellow body separated from its wheels. She had spent hours examining the damaged connections, hoping she could salvage enough parts to make something that would pass the competition's inspection.
But the robotic arm was beyond a simple repair.
The mounting bracket had snapped.
The control wire had been crushed.
And the main sensor board had a crack running through its center.
She rubbed her tired eyes and opened her laptop.
The competition email was still there.
*FINAL PROTOTYPE DEMONSTRATION — SATURDAY, 9:00 A.M.*
She had less than six days.
A knock came at her bedroom door.
"Zoe?""
It was Isaiah.
"Come in.""
He entered carrying two mugs of hot chocolate and a small paper bag from the bakery down the street.
"Breakfast," he said.
Zoe looked at the bag.
"You didn't have to.""
"I know.""
He placed everything on her desk and examined the robot.
"How bad?""
"Pretty bad.""
"Can it be fixed?""
She hesitated.
"Maybe. But I need a new bracket, a sensor board, and probably another motor.""
Isaiah nodded.
"Make a list.""
"Dad, I don't want you spending money you don't have.""
He pulled a chair beside her.
"Listen to me. I didn't send that money because I had nothing better to do with it. I sent it because I believe in you.""
Zoe looked down.
"Denise said you thought this was a waste.""
Isaiah's face tightened.
"I never said that. Not once.""
"She said you were tired of paying for my projects.""
"Zoe, I work because I want you to have opportunities I didn't have.""
He gently picked up the robot's damaged chassis.
"When I was your age, I used to take apart radios just to see how they worked. My father called it wasting time. I promised myself my children would never have to feel ashamed of being curious.""
Zoe looked at him.
"Even when the project doesn't work?""
"Especially then.""
She smiled faintly.
Isaiah handed her a napkin.
"Now eat something. We're going to get your parts.""
Downstairs, Denise was standing near the kitchen counter.
She watched them leave.
"Where are you going?"" she asked.
Isaiah grabbed his keys.
"To get Zoe what she needs.""
Denise forced a smile.
"There's no need to rush. Maybe she should take a break from all this engineering stuff.""
Zoe stopped.
"I don't want a break.""
Denise turned toward her.
"I wasn't talking to you.""
Isaiah stepped between them.
"Then you shouldn't have made a comment about her.""
He opened the door.
As they walked outside, Zoe heard Denise mutter something behind them.
She didn't turn around.
At the electronics store, Isaiah bought the replacement components Zoe needed.
He didn't complain about the price.
He didn't ask whether the robot would win.
He simply watched as she compared specifications and explained why one sensor was better suited to the project.
For the first time in months, Zoe felt like someone was taking her seriously.
When they returned home, Isaiah carried the shopping bags into the garage.
Zoe immediately began laying out the components.
Then she noticed the open drawer beneath the workbench.
It was where Denise kept household receipts and warranty papers.
A folded piece of paper stuck out from underneath a stack of envelopes.
Zoe pulled it free.
It was a receipt.
Her eyes moved across the page.
*Premium Aerial Photography Drone — $2,999.99.*
The purchase date was April eighteenth.
She frowned.
That was during the same period Isaiah had been sending money.
But something else caught her attention.
At the bottom of the receipt was the payment method.
*Card ending in 4821.*
Zoe recognized the number.
It belonged to the household card Isaiah had given Denise for emergency expenses.
She turned the paper over.
There was another document underneath.
A printed bank transfer confirmation.
*April fifteenth — $800.00.*
The reference line read:
*ZOE ENGINEERING COMPETITION.*
Zoe's stomach tightened.
Three days separated the two transactions.
She heard footsteps behind her.
"Sweetheart?""
Isaiah stood in the doorway.
Zoe held out the papers.
"Dad, look.""
He took them.
His expression changed as he read.
"Where did you find these?""
"In the drawer.""
Isaiah examined the receipt again.
"She used the household card?""
"I think so.""
He looked at the dates.
Then he noticed a handwritten note at the bottom of the bank statement.
A short list of expenses.
Rent.
Utilities.
Groceries.
Malik's drone.
And beside the final entry, in Denise's handwriting, were four words:
Use Zoe's money first.
Isaiah stared at the note.
Zoe felt her throat tighten.
"She knew," she whispered.
Isaiah didn't respond.
He carefully folded the papers and placed them on the workbench.
Then he walked toward the house.
"Stay here.""
Zoe followed him.
"No, Dad. I want to hear what she says.""
He stopped.
For a moment, he looked at his daughter.
Then he nodded.
"All right. But let me handle the conversation.""
They entered the kitchen.
Denise was sitting at the table, drinking coffee.
Malik was beside her, watching a video on his phone.
Isaiah placed the receipt in front of Denise.
"Explain this.""
Denise glanced at the paper.
Her coffee cup stopped halfway to her mouth.
"Where did you get that?""
"From the drawer in the garage.""
She looked at Zoe.
"You went through my things?""
Zoe stepped forward.
"It's my money.""
Denise set down her cup.
"Don't start.""
Isaiah tapped the receipt.
"You used the money I sent for Zoe to buy Malik's drone.""
"I used the household card.""
"That's not what I asked.""
Denise leaned back.
"Malik needed something for his photography business.""
Malik looked up.
"Mom, I told you not to—"
Denise shot him a warning glance.
He immediately stopped speaking.
Isaiah noticed.
"Not to what?""
"Nothing," Malik muttered.
Isaiah turned back to Denise.
"You told Zoe I didn't want to pay for her education. You let her spend four months building a robot from discarded parts while you spent the money I sent on this.""
Denise's voice became defensive.
"I was going to replace it.""
"With what?""
"I don't know!""
"Then why did you take it?""
"Because Malik needed support too!""
Zoe's hands trembled.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
Denise looked directly at her.
"Because I knew you'd make a big deal out of it.""
Zoe stared at her.
"A big deal? You let me think my own father didn't care about me.""
Denise stood.
"Your father is never here. Someone has to make decisions in this house.""
Isaiah's face hardened.
"Being away for work doesn't give you permission to lie to my daughter.""
Denise pointed toward Malik.
"He has needs too!""
"Then you should have asked me for money for him. You don't steal what I set aside for Zoe.""
"Steal?"" Denise repeated, her voice rising.
"You dare call me a thief?""
Isaiah picked up the receipt.
"I dare call this exactly what it is.""
Malik pushed his chair back.
"Can everyone stop? It's just a drone!""
Zoe turned toward him.
"Then why did you destroy my robot?""
He shrugged.
"Because it was annoying.""
"Four months of work was annoying?""
"You're acting like you're some genius because you built a toy.""
Isaiah stepped toward him.
"Your sister was preparing for a scholarship competition. What were you doing with that drone?""
Malik looked away.
Denise quickly interrupted.
"That's enough. Malik has a business idea. He was going to start making money with it.""
Isaiah looked at her.
"How much money has he made?""
Silence.
He waited.
Malik scratched his jaw.
"Nothing yet.""
"How long have you had the drone?""
"About six months.""
"And you've earned nothing?""
Malik glared.
"Because you broke it!""
Isaiah didn't raise his voice.
"Then perhaps you should have thought about the value of something before destroying someone else's work.""
Denise moved closer to the table.
"You can't keep treating Malik like he's a criminal.""
Isaiah looked at the papers.
"I'm not finished.""
He pulled out another document.
It was a printed bank statement covering the previous four months.
Zoe watched her stepmother's expression shift.
Because this time, Isaiah wasn't holding just one receipt.
There were several.
And the first one wasn't for the drone.
It was dated March twenty-third.
The description read:
*TRANSFER — $1,200.00.*
The recipient's name was visible beneath it.
Not Malik.
Not the electronics store.
Not the household account.
It was a name Zoe had never heard before.
Isaiah slowly placed the statement on the table.
"Denise," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Who is Marcus Reed?""
Denise went completely still.
Malik looked at the name.
May you like
Then at his mother.
And for the first time, he seemed just as confused as Zoe.
