I had been twelve when he died.
My mother told us the business had failed.
“What does this have to do with Maya’s mother?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Daniel said. “But there’s more. Hudson Family Consulting was created using an address connected to an old storage facility in Queens.”
“So?”
“So that same address appears on a document filed after your father’s death.”
“What document?”
“A change of beneficiary form.”
My mouth went dry.
“For what?”
“A life insurance policy.”
I lowered myself into the chair beside Maya’s bed.
Daniel continued, his voice measured.
“The original beneficiary was your mother. The amended beneficiary was someone named Marisol Santos.”
Maya sat upright despite the pain.
“My mother’s name is Marisol Santos.”
Neither of us spoke.
Daniel waited.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“I’m saying your father changed the beneficiary of a life insurance policy six weeks before he died. I’m also saying the policy was never paid to Marisol Santos because, according to the insurer, she could not be located.”
