The life I was used to changed in an instant when I turned 18 and was forced to “grow” overnight.
I remember that faithful evening like it was yesterday. The knock on the door woke me up, and seeing two officers standing at the door spoke trouble. I was even afraid to ask what had happened.
Before long, they informed me that my mom and dad were involved in a car crash. A drunk driver hit them and then ran away. Unfortunately, they both died at the scene.
It took me some time before I was able to process what I had heard. With my parents no longer alive, I was left with my six-year-old brother. But was I able to take care of him and raise him all by myself? A bunch of questions raced my mid while grief settled in my heart.
A week after the funeral, Aunt Diane and Uncle Gary showed up. “You’re still a kid,” my aunt said, fake concern written all over her face. “Max needs stability. A real home.”
They’d barely spoken to my mom and dad, rarely visited, and suddenly they were ready to battle over my brother’s custody.
Despite my age, I knew Max would be better off with me than anyone else so I dropped out of college and worked two jobs. However, I knew nothing about taking care of a child, nor was I familiar with the laws, including guardianship.
My aunt tried to convince me that Max should go live with them in Phoenix, that I wasn’t enough for him and that he needed a nice home. According to them, my good intentions weren’t enough. But I knew they didn’t care about Max, there was definitely more to the story than they were willing to reveal.
I stood my ground and told them there was no change I was letting my brother live with them. He belonged with me, and both Max and I knew that all too well.
However, three days later, Diane called me to tell me that she and her husband had filed for emergency custody of Max. “Get over it,” she said. “Max will come live with us, and that’s that.”
I immediately called Mr. Peterson, my parents’ lawyer who gave me his card at the funeral. He was the only person I could think of that could help me.
“Tyler,” Mr. Peterson said over the phone, “I have to be honest with you. Custody cases involving minors caring for minors are extremely difficult to win. The courts generally favor established adults with stable incomes and family environments.”
I got scared of the thought of losing my brother. “But won’t they care that Max wants to stay with me?” I asked.
“Not unless you can prove you’re capable of providing everything an eight-year-old needs. And Tyler, I mean everything—financial stability, emotional support, educational guidance, healthcare, supervision. The court will scrutinize every aspect of your life,” the lawyer explained.
My aunt did the unthinkable. She called Child Services and lied to them, claiming I was leaving Max alone and that I yelled at him. Diane was doing everything in her power to take my brother from me, and I couldn’t understand why. She didn’t even care about him, I was sure of that.
And then, one night, I learned the truth.
When I went to talk to her and Gary, hoping to get them to listen to my pleas, I overheard her saying, “Once we get custody, the state will release the trust fund.” Gary laughed. “We can send Max to boarding school. He’s a handful.”
My aunt joined her husband’s laughter, “You know a new car and nice vacation to Hawaii would do me good, right?”
I told Mr. Peterson what I had overheard. He said that if I have such a confession recorded, it would help my case.
A few days later, I went to my aunt’s and told her I’d agree to drop my guardianship case if they paid for my education. Of course, I never meant it—I just wanted her to reveal her true intentions.
By the way, I had a recording device on.
My aunt was happy to hear what I said. “Of course, honey, we will have your education covered,” she said.
“And what about Max? Do you have enough money for his education too?” I asked. “I wish my mom and dad left some money for us.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about it. There is a trust fund, but we’ll manage it properly.”
“A trust fund?” I asked. “I didn’t know there was one.”
“Oh, yes, there is. You mom mentioned it to me once. There is a lot of money there, not only for Max’s future, but for everyone.”
“How do you mean everyone? That’s Max’s money, don’t you dare use it for any other purposes.”
My aunt got mad. “You are not the one to tell me what to do you little brat. You are too young to take care of your brother anyway. Once we get the custody of him, he and his money won’t be any of your business.”
It was more than enough for me. I got up and left the place, heading to Mr. Peterson straight away.
During the final hearing, aunt Diane brought cookies to the judge. He was looking at her awkwardly.
When Mr. Peterson asked her and her husband if they were aware there was a trust fund when they applied for custody, they both pretended they were hearing about it for the first time.
“Fund!? What fund?” Diane asked.
But then, Mr.Peterson played the recording.
As Linda and Steve spoke, making things worse with every word they uttered, the judge’s demeanor changed—from polite to alarmed—at the mention of Emma’s trust being misused.
It was ruled that financial considerations were part of their custody petition, and there was no convincing way to argue otherwise.
After hours of presenting arguments, the judge made a verdict. Max was staying with me.
I agreed to have the trust fund managed by an independent trustee, with court oversight if necessary. Of course I never cared about money, unlike my aunt and uncle. I only cared about Max’s well-being.
Today, Max is thirteen, attending school, and thriving.
As of my aunt, she swore adopting Max for the sake of using his money was never her idea, although it didn’t sound like that. However, we forgave her, and she’s now visiting every now and then.
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Bored Daddy
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