Chapter 4: What Renee Knew
I called her back before I'd even finished reading the message.
Renee picked up on the second ring.
"Marcus."
"What do you know?"
A breath.
"Is Tara in the room with you?"
"No.
She's upstairs."
"Okay." Another pause, longer this time.
"I've been going back and forth about whether to say anything.
She's my sister.
But what she did today — accusing Maya like that — I can't just sit on this."
"Renee.
Tell me."
"Derek is her ex," she said.
"They dated for almost two years before she met you.
She told everyone it ended clean, but it didn't.
He's been in contact with her on and off for the last — I don't know — six, seven months at least."
I didn't say anything.
"The $50," Renee continued.
"I don't know for a fact.
But I know she's been moving small amounts of cash around for a while.
Not from your account — from her own.
But still.
Small amounts.
Regular."
"Why?"
"I think she's been helping him.
Derek.
He got into some kind of trouble last year.
Financial.
She never told me the details, but she mentioned once that she was helping him get back on his feet." Renee's voice dropped.
"I told her it was a mistake.
She told me to mind my business."
I pressed my thumb against the edge of the table.
"And today she accused Maya."
"I know."
"She accused a fifteen-year-old of stealing fifty dollars."
"Marcus, I know.
That's why I'm calling."
I stood up and walked to the window.
The backyard was empty.
The light was going flat, the way it does in late afternoon when the day hasn't decided yet whether to end.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"
"Because I kept hoping she'd tell you herself." Renee's voice was tired.
"She kept saying she was going to end it.
That she just needed to help him one more time and then it would be done."
"One more time."
"That's what she said."
I thought about the wallet on the counter.
The way Tara had set it down slowly, like a decision.
The way she'd said *she's not mine* — not in anger, but in something colder than anger.
"Renee.
The text I got.
The one that told me to ask about Derek.
Was that you?"
A long pause.
"Yes," she said.
"I didn't know how else to start it."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"Thank you for calling."
"I'm sorry, Marcus.
I really am."
I hung up and stood at the window for another minute.
Then I heard the bedroom door open upstairs.
Footsteps.
Tara coming back down.
I turned around and waited.
She appeared in the kitchen doorway.
She'd changed her shirt.
Her arms were at her sides.
She looked at me, then at the phone in my hand.
"Who were you talking to?" she said.
I set the phone on the table, screen up.
"Renee," I said.
May you like
Her face didn't move.
But her right hand found the doorframe.
