Chapter 5: The Sister Arrives
Felicia's sister Rochelle showed up forty minutes later.
I knew Rochelle from holidays — loud, certain of herself, the kind of person who walked into a room and immediately started rearranging the energy in it.
She came through the front door without knocking, which told me Felicia had left it unlocked on purpose.
"Dwayne." She said his name like a greeting and a warning at the same time.
"I think we all need to calm down and talk about this like adults."
My dad was still at the kitchen table.
He looked up at her.
"I am calm."
"Felicia is very upset."
"She should be."
Rochelle pulled out a chair and sat down like she'd been invited.
"Look.
What happened was a mistake.
Felicia panicked.
Raymond was in a bad situation and she reacted.
She didn't think it through."
"She had eleven days to think it through," I said.
Rochelle looked at me.
She had a way of looking at me — had always had it — like I was slightly younger and slightly less relevant than I actually was.
"Kendra, I understand you're upset—"
"She took my mother's money."
Rochelle paused.
"The college fund came from my mother's life insurance," I said.
"My dad told Felicia that before they got married.
So this wasn't a panic decision about a family emergency.
She took money she knew belonged to my dead mother and wired it to her brother."
The kitchen was very quiet.
Rochelle looked at Felicia, who had come back in from the hallway and was standing in the doorway.
Something passed between them — a look I couldn't fully read, but it had the shape of a warning.
"That's not—" Felicia started.
"Is it true?" Marcus asked.
He was looking at his mother.
"Did you know where the money came from before you moved it?"
Felicia didn't answer immediately.
"Mom."
"I knew it was set aside for Kendra," she said carefully.
"I didn't know the specific origin."
"That's not what Dad told the bank," Marcus said.
"He said he told you directly.
Before the wedding."
Felicia's eyes cut to my dad.
"I did," my dad said.
"I told you the account number, the balance, and where it came from.
You said you understood."
Rochelle leaned forward, both hands flat on the table.
"Okay.
This is getting into territory that doesn't help anyone.
What helps is finding a solution.
Felicia is willing to work out a repayment plan.
Reasonable installments over time.
Nobody needs lawyers, nobody needs banks getting involved further—"
"The bank is already involved," my dad said.
Rochelle's composure cracked slightly.
"You filed a report?"
"I opened a review.
Yes."
"Dwayne." Her voice dropped.
"Do you understand what that could mean for Felicia?
For this family?"
"I understand what it means for my daughter." He said it without raising his voice.
"Which is what I'm focused on."
Rochelle sat back.
She looked at Felicia again.
Another look with a shape I couldn't read.
"There's something else you should know," Rochelle said.
My dad waited.
"Felicia is the co-signer on Raymond's mortgage.
If this becomes a legal matter and Raymond is named, it affects her credit, her financial standing — it affects this household."
"She should have thought about that," Marcus said.
Rochelle ignored him.
"Dwayne.
I'm asking you, family to family, to pull back the bank review.
Let us handle this privately."
My dad looked at her for a long moment.
Then he looked at Felicia.
"You sent your sister here to negotiate," he said.
Not a question.
Felicia said nothing.
"Instead of coming back into this kitchen and talking to me yourself."
Still nothing.
My dad stood up.
"The review stays open.
If Felicia wants to discuss a repayment agreement, she can discuss it with me directly.
Not through Rochelle.
Not through anyone else." He looked at Rochelle.
"I don't mean any disrespect.
But this is my house and this is my daughter, and I'm not negotiating through a third party."
Rochelle stood up slowly.
She looked at me one more time — that same look — and then she picked up her bag.
"You're making a mistake," she said at the door.
"Maybe," my dad said.
"But it's mine to make."
The front door closed.
Felicia stood in the kitchen doorway.
For the first time, she looked less like someone running a strategy and more like someone watching one fail.
"Dwayne," she said.
"Can we please talk?
Just us?"
My dad looked at her for a moment.
May you like
Then he looked at me.
"Kendra stays," he said.
