Page 138 of Collateral Love
Channy’s hands trembled in her lap.
“Mom,” she said, voice shaking just a little. “They have paperwork. About Jared. About Dr. Price. About?—”
“Don’t you say his name,” my mother snapped, voice sharp enough to slice.
The temperature in the room dropped.
There it was.
Dr. Alan Price.
The missing professor from Cherry University and my mother’s man.
I leaned back and let my tongue rest behind my teeth.
Xavier lifted a folder from the table and placed it in front of her.
“Open it,” he said.
“I don’t have to do anything?—”
“Open it, Sharon,” Zay repeated with force.
She huffed under her breath, muttering something about disrespect, but she flipped it open.
Inside were several pictures of her and Alan.
Copies of financial records.
Cameron’s birth certificate with her signature.
I remember my mom going away a few years before Chanel was born. My dad said she was sick and her head was hurtingher. He said she was staying with Grandma to feel better. That sick bitch faked a mental health crisis to have another man’s fuckin baby.
My mother’s eyes scanned the pages, shoulders tightening one notch at a time.
“That’s fake,” she said.
Xavier laughed once. “Guilty motherfuckas always start there.”
She snapped the folder shut. “I don’t know what this is supposed to be.”
“It’s bank deposits,” I said. “Made from a shared account you had with Alan Price. Starting before I was born.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You got some nerve going through my private finances,” she said.
“That’s your takeaway?” I asked. “Not the part where your side man went missing, and his daughter ended up dedicating her whole career to destroying mine?”
“Don’t twist my words,” she said sharply. “I had nothing to do with that little girl.”
My mother ignored her.
X tapped another page. “And this is the fun part,” he said. “The DNA panel from when you got your little ‘routine checkup’ at the clinic five years ago. You remember signing that consent form, Mrs. Davis? The one that said your anonymized results might be used in academic comparison databases?”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You—y’all stole my medical information?” she sputtered.
