Chapter 4 - ISAAC HAD BEEN KEEPING HIS OWN RECORDCedric did not question Isaac that night.
He ordered pizza.
Put on the animated movie Isaac loved.
Sat beside him on the couch.
For the first thirty minutes, Isaac barely touched his food.
Every sound from outside made him look toward the front door.
Finally Cedric asked:
“Are you worried Aunt Prudence is coming back?”
Isaac nodded.
“She isn’t staying here tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No.”
The boy looked at him carefully.
“Ever?”
Cedric chose his words.
“Not unless I know you’re safe.”
Isaac stared at the pizza.
Then whispered:
“She’ll say I made you hate her.”
Cedric’s chest tightened.
“No one can make me feel anything.”
“She says kids can ruin families.”
Cedric closed his eyes.
“How often does she say things like that?”
Isaac shrugged.
Cedric resisted the urge to ask ten questions at once.
“Buddy, you don’t have to tell me everything tonight.”
Isaac nodded.
“You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”
Silence.
Then:
“I have a box.”
Cedric looked at him.
“What kind of box?”
Isaac got off the couch.
He ran upstairs.
Cedric waited.
Five minutes later Isaac returned carrying a small blue shoebox.
He placed it on the coffee table.
“What is this?”
Isaac looked embarrassed.
“Proof.”
Cedric’s heart stopped.
“Proof of what?”
“When Aunt Prudence gets mean.”
He opened it.
Inside were small things.
A broken pencil.
A photograph.
A folded note.
Two paper towels with dates written in childish handwriting.
Cedric picked up the note.
Dad gone Dallas. Aunt P said no dinner because I talked back. Mateo gave me banana outside.
Cedric’s throat tightened.
Another:
Dad in Richmond. Aunt P locked tablet in garage and said I have dead mom’s bad attitude.
Another.
She asked where Mom’s papers are.
Cedric stopped.
“What papers?”
Isaac pointed.
“She keeps asking about Mom.”
“What does she ask?”
“If Mommy left me money.”
Cedric stared.
“Anything else?”
“If the house was Mommy’s.”
His pulse increased.
Hannah had contributed significantly to the purchase.
Her family money funded the original down payment.
Legally, the property now belonged to Cedric.
Emotionally, he always considered it partly Hannah’s legacy to Isaac.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Isaac began crying.
“She said you’d think I was trying to make her homeless.”
Cedric pulled him close.
“She said she has nowhere else.”
Isaac whispered into his shirt.
“I didn’t want her to sleep outside.”
Cedric almost broke.
Prudence had used an eight-year-old child’s compassion against him.
After Isaac calmed down, Cedric looked through the box again.
A photograph caught his attention.
Prudence standing near the driveway.
A man beside her.
Isaac had apparently taken it accidentally while photographing his bicycle.
Cedric recognized the man immediately.
Nolan Price.
His financial adviser.
“When was this?”
Isaac thought.
“Aunt Prudence’s birthday?”
Three months ago.
Cedric stared.
Nolan had never mentioned visiting the house.
“Did they come inside?”
“No.”
“What did they do?”
“Talked by the car.”
“Long?”
Isaac shrugged.
“Then Aunt Prudence got mad.”
“At Nolan?”
“Yeah.”
“What did she say?”
Isaac thought.
“Something about waiting too long.”
Cedric’s heartbeat changed.
“Exact words?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything close?”
Isaac closed his eyes.
Then:
“She said, ‘I can’t wait until Cedric dies.’”
Cedric went completely still.
Isaac misunderstood his expression.
“She didn’t mean kill you!”
Cedric looked at him.
“What?”
“She said that.”
“What exactly?”
“She said, ‘I can’t wait until Cedric dies to get what Dad promised me.’”
Cedric stared.
Their father.
Harold.
The house.
Prudence apparently believed their father had promised her something.
“Did Nolan answer?”
Isaac nodded.
“What did he say?”
“I couldn’t hear.”
Cedric looked at the photograph again.
Then at the box.
This was no longer just a trust leak.
Prudence had been discussing his property with Nolan months before Cedric created Isaac’s trust.
“Anything else in the box?”
Isaac nodded.
He pulled out a folded brochure.
Cedric opened it.
RIDGEWAY YOUTH BEHAVIORAL ASSESSMENT CENTER — UTAH
Cedric’s stomach turned.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was in Aunt Prudence’s bag.”
“Why did you take it?”
Isaac’s face tightened.
“She told someone on the phone that I’d be there by the end of next month.”
Cedric stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She didn’t know I was upstairs.”
“Did she say why?”
Isaac shook his head.
Cedric opened the brochure.
Residential evaluation.
Children with “severe behavioral challenges.”
Minimum stay: thirty days.
He looked at his son.
“Has anyone from this place talked to you?”
“No.”
“School counselor?”
“No.”
“Doctor?”
“No.”
Cedric picked up his phone.
He searched Ridgeway.
Licensed facility.
Expensive.
Out of state.
Then he found an email address handwritten on the back.
Admissions contact: Dana Mercer. Referral received.
Referral received.
Someone had already contacted them.
Cedric called.
The receptionist refused to discuss details without verification.
Cedric identified himself as Isaac’s father.
A pause.
Then:
“Mr. Carter, we do have a preliminary intake request for Isaac.”
Cedric’s hand tightened.
“Who submitted it?”
“We would need authorization to disclose—”
“I am his father.”
Another pause.
“Your sister, Prudence Carter.”
Cedric closed his eyes.
“Did she claim to be his guardian?”
“Yes.”
“And she provided legal documentation.”
Cedric stood.
“What documentation?”
“A power of attorney.”
The old document.
Prudence had already used it.
“When is intake?”
The woman hesitated.
“Three weeks from Monday.”
May you like
Cedric looked at Isaac.
Exactly when Prudence said he would no longer be in the house.
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