“What are these?”
“The house key.”
“I already have a house key.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You have a guest access code.”
Maya looked stunned.
“The brass key opens the original study.”
“The silver one opens the document chest inside.”
“The fob is for the security system.”
Maya stared.
“Why?”
“Your trust requires that at sixteen you be formally informed of the property, receive access to the trust records, and be consulted on any use that materially affects the property.”
“You are still a minor.”
“The independent trustee keeps legal control.”
“You do not suddenly own a house tomorrow in the way an adult owns a house.”
“But you become entitled to know what exists.”
Maya laughed.
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“I turn sixteen tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“So Mom decided sixteen.”
Adrian flinched at the word Mom.
Maya’s biological mother, Nia, had died when Maya was six.
“Yes.”
“And you decided fifteen years and three hundred sixty-four days was the maximum time I should stay stupid.”
“Maya.”
“No.”
She stepped backward.
“Don't.”
Adrian’s hand dropped.
She looked toward the fire.
“My dress is burning because she knew something about me that I didn't know.”
No one answered.
“That is what happened.”
Adrian looked toward Simone.
“Yes.”
Maya laughed again.
Then started crying harder.
“I don't even care about the stupid house.”
Simone’s face changed.
“Of course you don't.”
Maya turned.
“What?”
“You don't have to care.”
Simone wiped one cheek angrily.
“That is the luxury.”
“Things just become yours.”
“The house.”
“The trust.”
“Dad protecting every memory of your mother.”
“Grandma Carter paying for your camps.”
“People at school acting like your story is tragic and beautiful.”
Maya stared.
“My mother died.”
“I know.”
“So did my father.”
The words stopped everyone.
Renee closed her eyes.
Simone’s biological father, Terrence Walker, had died from a heart attack when Simone was nineteen.
Not when she was a child.
Not the same.
Grief did not care about symmetry.
Simone continued.
“He died and nothing became mine.”
“He left debt.”
“Medical bills.”
“A car with payments.”
“My mother and I figured it out.”
Maya looked toward Renee.
Simone’s voice sharpened.
“You lost your mother and got a trust.”
“I lost my father and got his storage unit.”
Adrian said quietly:
“That is not Maya’s fault.”
“I know!”
Simone shouted.
Then covered her face.
The anger cracked open.
“I know.”
She cried.
“That is what makes it worse.”
Renee stepped toward her daughter.
Simone pulled away.
“No.”
She looked at Adrian.
“I spent eight years thinking this was your house.”
“You let me.”
Adrian stared.
Simone continued.
“You told me I could host clients here.”
“You told me I could use the terrace for shoots.”
“You let me build Silver Tide here.”
“You knew I wanted to expand.”
“You knew I was looking at loans.”
“And then last month Mom tells me none of this can ever secure anything because technically it belongs to Maya.”
Maya looked at Renee.