Chapter 4 - THE SON THEY BET EVERYTHING ON
For three days, I stayed with Nina’s family.
Her mother made pancakes every morning and asked whether I had slept.
The question almost made me cry the first time.
At home, things were collapsing.
Dad’s business partners demanded an emergency meeting. Pierce Technologies requested payroll records proving I had been employed. The records did not exist.
The company’s bank also began reviewing a line of credit tied to the projected campus contract.
My father had borrowed against money he had not yet earned.
Mom sent messages that shifted between guilt and threats.
Your father could lose everything.
You’re destroying your brother’s future.
Families do not embarrass each other publicly.
She never wrote: I’m sorry we missed your graduation.
Tyler contacted me on the fourth day.
Can we talk?
I almost ignored him.
Then he added:
Dad used my name too.
We met at a diner near the interstate.
Tyler wore a knee brace and a Lakeside Basketball sweatshirt. Without my parents beside him, he looked younger than nineteen.
He pushed a folder across the table.
“I found these in Dad’s office.”
Inside were scholarship forms, financial projections, and sponsorship letters.
My brother’s signature appeared on several documents.
“Did you sign these?”
He shook his head.
“Dad did.”
One form claimed Tyler had accepted an athletic scholarship from Western State University.
I looked up.
“Did they offer you one?”
His face reddened.
“No.”
“Then why—”
“Dad used it to get a private loan.”
The loan agreement listed Tyler’s anticipated professional earnings as supporting documentation.
I read it twice.
“This isn’t how legitimate loans work.”
“It wasn’t from a bank.”
“Who was it from?”
“A sports investment company.”
Tyler stared at the table.
“They gave Dad two hundred thousand dollars in exchange for a percentage of my future earnings.”
“You’re not even under contract.”
“I know.”
His voice broke.
“There weren’t scouts at the semifinal.”
I said nothing.
“Dad knew that,” he continued. “The coach told him weeks ago. I wasn’t on any recruiter’s priority list.”
“Then why did they skip graduation?”
Tyler looked at me.
Shame replaced the usual arrogance in his face.
“Because Dad invited the investors. He wanted them to think I had a future worth betting on.”
The truth settled between us.
My parents had not chosen Tyler’s opportunity over my graduation.
There had been no opportunity.
They had used his game as a performance for people they owed money.
“He told everyone scouts were coming,” Tyler said. “When we lost, one of the investors asked for his money back.”
“Does Mom know?”
“She knows everything.”
That was the major twist.
My mother had not been a passive parent following Dad’s lead.
She had prepared the financial packets. Her former job at a credit union gave her enough knowledge to make the documents look legitimate.
Tyler rubbed both hands over his face.
“I thought they believed in me.”
His voice sounded small.
“Maybe they did,” I said. “But they also used you.”
He looked up sharply.
“Don’t defend them.”
“I’m not.”
“I treated you like garbage because that’s what they taught me to do.”
“You still chose to do it.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
For once, he did not make an excuse.
“What are you going to do with these?” I asked.
“Give them to the Pierce investigators.”
“Dad will blame you.”
“He already does.”
Tyler reached into his pocket and placed his car keys on the table.
“The SUV was repossessed this morning.”
I stared at him.
“Mom told me to call you and convince you to lie. She said if I couldn’t do that, I should remind you how lonely you are.”
Pain moved through me, quiet and precise.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“Then she said you always come back because you don’t have anyone else.”
I looked around the diner.
Nina’s mother was waiting in her car outside because she did not want me meeting Tyler alone.
Mrs. Alvarez had texted that morning to remind me to eat.
Mr. Coleman had offered to store my books until college.
Daniel Pierce’s foundation had arranged temporary housing for the internship.
My mother was wrong.
I had people.
They simply were not the people whose names matched mine.
“Come with me,” I told Tyler.
May you like
“Where?”
“To tell the truth.”
