Episode 1

Twelve-year-old Malik Carter woke up to the sound of rain dripping into a metal bucket beside his bed.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

He opened his eyes and stared at the cracked ceiling of the small apartment.

The room was cold and dark. The electricity had been disconnected two days earlier, so the only light came through the torn curtains.

Malik slowly sat up.

On the mattress beside him, his seven-year-old sister, Nia, was still sleeping. She was wrapped in an old brown blanket.

Malik carefully stood up so he would not wake her.

He walked into the tiny kitchen.

His grandmother, Evelyn Carter, was sitting at the table with several envelopes in front of her. She quickly covered them when she saw him.

“Good morning, Grandma,” Malik said.

Evelyn forced a smile.

“Good morning, baby.”

Malik looked at the envelopes.

He had already seen the red words printed on one of them.

FINAL NOTICE.

“Are we going to lose the apartment?” he asked.

His grandmother looked away.

“You should not worry about adult problems.”

“But I am not a little kid anymore.”

“You are twelve, Malik.”

“That is old enough to know when something is wrong.”

Evelyn sighed.

For the past three years, she had taken care of Malik and Nia alone. Their mother had died in a car accident, and no one knew where their father was.

Evelyn worked at a laundry shop six days a week, but her salary was not enough to pay all the bills.

She stood up and opened a cabinet.

Inside, there was only half a loaf of bread and one small jar of peanut butter.

She made two sandwiches.

One for Malik and one for Nia.

“Aren’t you eating?” Malik asked.

“I already ate.”

Malik knew she was lying.

He broke his sandwich in half and placed one piece in front of her.

“You eat this half.”

“Malik—”

“I am not hungry.”

His stomach growled loudly.

Evelyn looked at him with sad eyes.

“You are just like your mother,” she whispered.

Malik became quiet.

His grandmother rarely spoke about his mother.

Whenever he asked questions, she changed the subject.

“What was she really like?” Malik asked.

Evelyn looked at the old photograph on the kitchen shelf.

It showed a young Black woman with a bright smile. She was holding baby Malik in her arms.

“She was intelligent,” Evelyn said. “Brave too. Sometimes too brave for her own good.”

“What does that mean?”

Before Evelyn could answer, someone knocked on the front door.

Three hard knocks.

Evelyn froze.

Malik noticed fear cross her face.

“Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

“No.”

The knocking came again.

Evelyn walked toward the door slowly.

“Who is it?”

A man’s voice answered.

“Mrs. Carter? My name is Daniel Brooks. I need to speak with you.”

Evelyn opened the door slightly but kept the safety chain locked.

A tall Black man in an expensive gray suit stood in the hallway. He carried a black umbrella and a leather briefcase.

Behind him stood a woman wearing a long cream coat.

She appeared to be in her early forties. Her hair was neatly styled, and a diamond necklace rested around her neck.

Malik had never seen anyone dressed like that in their building.

“What do you want?” Evelyn asked.

The woman stepped forward.

“My name is Victoria Harrington.”

Evelyn’s face immediately changed.

She tried to close the door.

Daniel quickly placed his hand against it.

“Please, Mrs. Carter,” he said. “We did not come here to cause trouble.”

“You should leave.”

Victoria looked past Evelyn and saw Malik standing in the kitchen.

Her eyes widened.

For several seconds, she simply stared at him.

Malik felt uncomfortable.

“Grandma, who are they?” he asked.

“No one.”

Victoria’s eyes filled with tears.

“He looks exactly like her,” she whispered.

Evelyn’s voice became sharp.

“Do not speak about my daughter.”

Malik looked from his grandmother to the strangers.

“You knew my mother?”

No one answered.

Malik stepped closer to the door.

“Did you know her?”

Victoria took a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said. “I knew your mother very well.”

Evelyn removed the safety chain and opened the door.

“Come inside before the neighbors start watching.”

Victoria and Daniel entered the apartment.

Victoria looked around the small room. She noticed the bucket catching rainwater, the unpaid bills and the empty kitchen cabinet.

Malik saw pity in her eyes.

He hated it.

“We do not need charity,” he said.

Victoria looked at him.

“I did not come to offer charity.”

“Then why are you here?”

She glanced at Evelyn.

“Perhaps we should speak privately.”

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of Malik,” Evelyn replied.

Victoria sat at the kitchen table.

Daniel remained standing near the door.

“I recently learned about your financial situation,” Victoria began.

Evelyn crossed her arms.

“How?”

“That is not important.”

“It is important to me.”

Victoria placed a folder on the table.

“My husband and I would like to help Malik.”

“Help me with what?” Malik asked.

“Your education.”

Malik frowned.

Victoria opened the folder.

Inside were several school documents.

Malik recognized his name on them.

“You attend Lincoln Middle School,” she said. “Your grades are excellent. You received the highest mathematics score in the district last year.”

“How did you get those?” Malik demanded.

Daniel finally spoke.

“The Harrington Foundation supports educational programs throughout the city.”

Malik had heard of the Harrington Foundation.

Everyone had.

The Harrington family owned hotels, hospitals and several large businesses across the country. Their mansion was often shown on television.

Victoria Harrington was one of the richest women in the state.

“We want to enroll you at Westbridge Academy,” Victoria said.

Malik stared at her.

Westbridge Academy was the most expensive private school in the city. Children of politicians, celebrities and business owners studied there.

“That school costs more than our apartment,” Malik said.

“You would receive a full scholarship.”

Evelyn shook her head.

“No.”

“Grandma!” Malik said.

“You are not going anywhere with them.”

Victoria’s voice remained calm.

“Mrs. Carter, please think about his future.”

“I have thought about his future every day of his life.”

“Then you know he deserves opportunities you cannot give him.”

Silence filled the room.

Malik saw pain in his grandmother’s face.

Victoria realized she had gone too far.

“I apologize,” she said softly. “That was not fair.”

Evelyn stood up.

“This conversation is over.”

Victoria did not move.

“There is something else.”

“What?”

Victoria folded her hands.

“My husband and I would like Malik to live with us.”

Malik stared at her.

Evelyn’s chair fell backward as she stood suddenly.

“Absolutely not!”

Victoria continued.

“It would begin as a temporary guardianship. He would have his own room, attend Westbridge Academy and receive everything he needs.”

“You want to take my grandson away from me?”

“No. We want to give him a chance.”

“And why would one of the richest families in America care about a boy from Oak Street?”

Victoria looked directly at Malik.

“Because I made a promise to his mother.”

Malik’s heart began beating faster.

“What promise?”

Evelyn pointed toward the door.

“Leave.”

“Grandma, wait,” Malik said. “I want to hear this.”

“There is nothing to hear.”

Victoria stood.

“Your mother came to me shortly before she died,” she told Malik.

Evelyn stepped between them.

“That is enough.”

“She was afraid,” Victoria continued. “She believed someone was following her.”

Malik felt the room spinning around him.

“The police said her accident was caused by the rain.”

Victoria’s eyes did not leave his face.

“Your mother did not believe she was going to die in an accident.”

Daniel touched Victoria’s arm.

“We should go.”

Victoria picked up her handbag.

Before leaving, she placed a white card on the table.

“There is a car waiting downstairs,” she said. “Malik can visit our home this Saturday. No decisions have to be made today.”

Evelyn did not touch the card.

Victoria walked toward the door.

Malik followed her.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

She stopped.

“Why did my mother come to you?”

Victoria looked at Evelyn, then back at him.

“Ask your grandmother about the Harrington house.”

The door closed behind her.

Malik turned around.

His grandmother stood silently in the middle of the apartment.

“What happened at the Harrington house?” he asked.

Evelyn began gathering the school documents with shaking hands.

“Nothing.”

“She said Mom went there.”

“Malik, let it go.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I am trying to protect you!”

“From what?”

Evelyn stopped.

For a moment, Malik thought she might finally tell him the truth.

Instead, she picked up the white card and threw it into the trash.

“You are not going to that house.”

Malik stared at her.

“You cannot decide everything for me.”

“I am your grandmother.”

“And she was my mother!”

Evelyn flinched.

Malik immediately regretted shouting, but he was too angry to apologize.

He grabbed his schoolbag and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Evelyn asked.

“To school.”

“It is too early.”

“I would rather wait outside.”

He slammed the door behind him.

At school, Malik could not concentrate.

His teacher, Mr. Bennett, wrote an equation on the board.

“Who can solve this problem?”

Normally, Malik’s hand would have been the first in the air.

That morning, he stared out the window.

A group of students whispered behind him.

“Hey, Oak Street,” a boy named Tyler said. “Did the rats eat your homework?”

Several students laughed.

Malik ignored him.

Tyler came from a wealthy family and never missed an opportunity to mock Malik’s old clothes.

“Maybe he does not understand the question,” Tyler continued.

Mr. Bennett turned around.

“That is enough, Tyler.”

Malik finally looked at the board.

“The answer is thirty-six,” he said.

Mr. Bennett smiled.

“Correct.”

Tyler rolled his eyes.

During lunch, Malik sat alone with a carton of milk.

He did not have money for a full meal.

His best friend, Jamal, sat across from him and pushed half of his pizza onto Malik’s tray.

“You look terrible,” Jamal said.

“Thanks.”

“What happened?”

Malik told him about Victoria Harrington.

Jamal nearly dropped his drink.

“The Victoria Harrington?”

“Yes.”

“The woman whose house has three swimming pools?”

“I do not know how many pools she has.”

“Three. I watched a video about it.”

Malik lowered his voice.

“She wants me to live with her family.”

Jamal stared at him.

“You are joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“That is amazing!”

“No, it is strange. She knew my mother.”

Jamal became serious.

“Do you think your grandmother knows more than she is telling you?”

“I know she does.”

“What are you going to do?”

Malik looked down at his empty tray.

“I am going to find out the truth.”

That evening, Malik returned home.

His grandmother was at work, and Nia was visiting a neighbor.

The apartment was quiet.

Malik walked into the kitchen and looked inside the trash.

The white card was gone.

His grandmother had removed it.

He opened the drawers, searched the cabinets and checked beneath the pile of bills.

Nothing.

Then he remembered the old wooden box under his grandmother’s bed.

She had always told him never to touch it.

Malik entered her bedroom.

He knelt beside the bed and pulled out the box.

It was locked.

He searched the drawer beside the bed and found a small silver key hidden beneath some socks.

His hands trembled as he opened the box.

Inside were photographs, newspaper articles and several letters tied together with a blue ribbon.

Malik picked up the first photograph.

His breath caught in his throat.

It showed his mother standing in front of the Harrington mansion.

Beside her was a much younger Victoria Harrington.

And standing between them was a man Malik had never seen before.

On the back of the photograph, someone had written:

Angela, Victoria and Marcus — Summer 2013.

Below the names were five more words.

The truth must remain hidden.

Malik heard the apartment door opening.

He quickly turned around.

His grandmother stood in the bedroom doorway.

Her face was filled with fear.

“You opened the box,” she whispered.

Malik held up the photograph.

“Who is Marcus?”

Evelyn looked at the man in the picture.

Tears formed in her eyes.

Then she gave Malik the answer that would change his life forever.

“Marcus Harrington is your father.”

TO BE CONTINUED…