Chapter 8 - MY BROTHER'S NAME
Thomas was three years older than me.
He had walked me down the aisle when my father died.
He had been Lily's godfather.
He had bought her first bicycle.
He had also skipped her funeral.
At the time, he told me he was trapped in London because of a canceled flight.
I believed him.
Then David named him.
I nearly threw the transcript across Reed's office.
“No.”
“Maya—”
“No.”
“David says Thomas helped move money.”
“David lies.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are we listening to this?”
“Because records support part of it.”
My stomach dropped.
“What records?”
Reed slid bank statements toward me.
Transfers.
Millions.
One company connected to David.
Another controlled by Thomas.
“Your brother received money.”
“He's an investment consultant.”
“These weren't consulting payments.”
I stared at the figures.
“Did he know?”
“We don't know yet.”
I called Thomas.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
The irony nearly made me sick.
Finally, he texted.
Busy. Call tomorrow.
I stared at those words.
No.
Not again.
I sent one message.
Federal agents know about Northstar.
Thomas called in eight seconds.
“Maya.”
His voice was breathless.
“What did you do?”
The question told me everything.
Not “What is Northstar?”
Not “Are you okay?”
What did you do?
I closed my eyes.
“You knew.”
Silence.
“Maya.”
“You knew.”
“I can explain.”
“How long?”
“It's complicated.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
I almost dropped the phone.
“You helped David for three years?”
“I moved some funds.”
“You forged documents?”
“No.”
“Did you know he used my name?”
Another silence.
I started crying.
“Thomas.”
“I knew there were companies in your name.”
“You knew.”
“I thought you agreed.”
“You knew I didn't.”
“I didn't know that.”
“You never asked.”
“Maya—”
“Did you know about Julianne?”
“No.”
“Did you know he was planning to divorce me?”
“No.”
“Did you know about Dr. Cole?”
“No.”
I wanted to believe him.
Then I asked the one question that mattered.
“Why weren't you at Lily's funeral?”
Thomas stopped breathing.
“I told you.”
“You lied.”
“Maya.”
“Why?”
His voice broke.
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“David called me.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“When?”
“The day Lily died.”
My entire body went cold.
“What did he say?”
“He said you were blowing up his phone.”
I couldn't speak.
Thomas continued.
“He asked me to check on you.”
“And did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He told me not to feed your anxiety.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“You listened to him?”
“I thought—”
“You thought what?”
“I thought you were fighting.”
“My daughter was dying.”
“I didn't know.”
There it was again.
The sentence cowards use after choosing not to know.
I whispered, “She was your niece.”
Thomas started crying.
“Maya, please.”
“You could have called me.”
“I know.”
“You could have gone to the hospital.”
“I know.”
“You could have answered one message.”
“I know.”
I hung up.
Federal agents arrested Thomas the next morning.
He cooperated immediately.
Unlike David, he did not negotiate for himself first.
He gave them everything.
Bank records.
Emails.
Encrypted messages.
Then he told Reed about one account David had never disclosed.
An account in Zurich.
Worth forty-two million dollars.
May you like
And the beneficiary wasn't David.
It was me.
