Chapter 2: The Woman Behind the Vacation
Vanella turned away from us and pressed her phone against her ear.
"Not now, Denise.""
Her voice was sharp, almost frightened.
I glanced at Ava.
She looked equally confused.
Brielle, however, had stopped staring at the canceled reservation. She was watching her mother with an expression I couldn't quite understand.
"Mom, who is Denise?"" I asked.
Vanella covered the microphone.
"My sister. This has nothing to do with you.""
I almost laughed.
"Your sister is calling you about a vacation I just canceled. I'd say it has something to do with me.""
She turned her back again.
"Denise, I'll call you later.""
A pause.
Then her sister's voice came through loudly enough for me to hear.
"Vanella, you need to fix this. You promised me!""
Vanella ended the call.
For a moment, the only sound in the hallway was the grandfather clock ticking near the staircase.
I looked at my wife.
"What exactly did you promise your sister?""
"Nothing important.""
"Then explain it.""
Vanella crossed her arms.
"Michael, I'm not going to stand here and be interrogated because you had an emotional reaction to a little disagreement between two girls.""
"Two girls?""
I pointed toward the dress.
"One of those girls is wearing the other's property, carrying a handbag that belonged to her dead mother, and laughing about it.""
Vanella rolled her eyes.
"You always have to bring Ava's mother into everything.""
Ava stiffened beside me.
I felt her move closer.
"Don't talk about her mother," I said.
Vanella's expression became colder.
"Why? Because she was perfect? Because she died and now nobody is allowed to question anything connected to her?""
The hallway went silent.
Even Brielle looked uncomfortable.
I stared at my wife.
"Get out of my daughter's face.""
Vanella shook her head.
"You are impossible.""
She turned and walked toward the sitting room.
Brielle followed, still wearing Ava's gown.
I watched them disappear around the corner.
Then I heard a door slam.
Ava exhaled.
"I'm sorry, Dad.""
I turned immediately.
"Why are you apologizing?""
"Because I know you were looking forward to the vacation. And now everything is ruined.""
I took both her hands.
"Listen to me. The vacation isn't ruined. It's canceled. There's a difference.""
She gave me a small, sad smile.
"Mom would have hated this.""
I swallowed.
Ava's mother, Rebecca, had been gone for nine years. She had been the kind of woman who remembered everyone's birthday, made pancakes on rainy Saturdays, and left little handwritten notes in lunch bags.
The handbag Brielle had dropped was one of the few things Ava had kept from her.
"I know," I said.
Ava looked toward the sitting room.
"Can I tell you something?""
"Anything.""
"She didn't just take the dress.""
My stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?""
Ava hesitated.
"Last night, I came home from the tailor. The dress was hanging in my closet. This morning, it was gone.""
"And?""
"I found Brielle in my room. She had the handbag on her bed, and she was taking pictures in the mirror.""
"Did you ask her why?""
"I did. She told me Mom had said she could use anything in the house because you were paying for everything anyway.""
I stared at her.
"Anything?""
Ava nodded.
"Then I asked her to put the handbag back. She said it looked better with her outfit.""
I looked at the damaged gown again.
"Did she spill the wine?""
Ava shook her head.
"No. She said it happened when she was trying it on. But when I saw the stain, she laughed.""
"Did she say anything else?""
Ava's eyes filled with tears.
"She said I should stop acting like the princess of the house.""
I pulled her into a hug.
For a few moments, neither of us spoke.
Then Ava whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Dad, I think Mom knows about more than just the dress.""
I pulled back.
"What are you talking about?""
She looked toward the staircase.
"Last week, I heard Vanella talking to Brielle about your bank account.""
I frowned.
"My bank account?""
"Yes. They were in the kitchen. I wasn't trying to listen, but I heard Brielle ask when she would finally get access to the money.""
My jaw tightened.
"What did Vanella say?""
Ava looked uncomfortable.
"She said, 'After Hawaii, everything will be easier. Your father trusts me. Just be patient.''"
I stared at my daughter.
There were a dozen possible explanations, but none of them made me feel better.
"Did you hear anything else?""
"Vanella said something about a document. She told Brielle not to mention it until after the trip.""
A document.
I tried to remember whether Vanella had asked me to sign anything recently.
Then I remembered.
Three weeks earlier, she had brought a folder into my home office.
She said it contained updated household insurance documents and some paperwork related to our property.
I had been working on a business acquisition at the time.
She had placed a yellow sticky note on the signature page.
"Just routine paperwork," she had said.
I had signed it.
My stomach dropped.
"Ava, do you remember what the document looked like?""
"White folder. Blue logo. There were several pages.""
I closed my eyes briefly.
I needed to know what I had signed.
"Stay here," I told her.
I walked toward my home office.
The room was at the end of the hallway, behind a pair of dark wooden doors. I kept business documents, property records, and financial statements in a locked cabinet.
I entered, switched on the desk lamp, and opened the cabinet.
The folder wasn't there.
I checked the second shelf.
Then the bottom drawer.
Nothing.
I pulled out my laptop and searched my email for the insurance company Vanella had mentioned.
There was no updated policy.
No new household insurance.
No correspondence about the property.
Instead, I found an email from a law firm I had never contacted.
The subject line read:
*RE: Michael Carter — Authorization Documents.*
I opened it.
The email was dated three weeks earlier.
The attached PDF contained a document titled:
*Limited Financial and Property Authorization.*
I read the first page.
Then the second.
By the third page, my hands were cold.
The document gave Vanella authority to handle certain financial transactions and communicate with institutions on my behalf.
But the last section was what made me sit down.
It referenced a proposed transfer of ownership interests in one of my investment properties.
A property worth considerably more than twelve thousand dollars.
I scrolled down.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It looked like mine.
But I hadn't knowingly agreed to transfer anything.
I called the law firm immediately.
A receptionist answered.
"Good afternoon, Carter and Mills.""
"This is Michael Carter. I'm calling about an authorization document sent to me three weeks ago.""
"Certainly, Mr. Carter. May I place you on hold while I locate the file?""
I waited.
A minute passed.
Then a woman came on the line.
"Mr. Carter, this is Laura Mills. I handled the document you signed.""
I sat forward.
"Tell me exactly what it authorizes.""
There was a pause.
"Before I discuss the details, I need to confirm something. Are you currently aware that your wife submitted a request to proceed with the property transfer?""
My throat tightened.
"No. I am not.""
Another pause.
"Then I recommend that you come into our office tomorrow morning. There are some matters we need to clarify.""
"Why tomorrow? Is something happening?""
Laura lowered her voice.
"Because your wife contacted us yesterday asking whether the transfer could be completed before your planned trip to Hawaii.""
I gripped the edge of my desk.
"Why?""
"I'd rather explain when you're here with the complete file.""
I ended the call and stared at the laptop.
For the first time, the canceled vacation seemed like the smallest problem in the house.
I returned to the hallway.
Ava was sitting on the staircase, holding her mother's handbag.
She looked up when she saw me.
"Did you find something?""
I sat beside her.
"Maybe.""
I didn't want to frighten her.
But I wasn't going to lie.
"Someone has been trying to change the ownership arrangements for one of my properties.""
Her eyes widened.
"Vanella?""
"I don't know everything yet.""
"But you think it was her?""
I looked at the handbag in her lap.
"I think we need to be careful.""
Ava nodded.
Just then, the sitting room door opened.
Brielle came out wearing a different outfit. She had finally removed Ava's ruined gown.
Vanella followed her.
"Michael, we need to talk.""
"Not now.""
"Yes, now.""
She held up her phone.
"Do you know what you've done? The resort has charged us a cancellation fee, and Brielle has already lost her deposit for the activities.""
I stared at her.
"You were supposed to leave in three days. What activities?""
"Private excursions. A boat charter. Spa appointments. Everything.""
"All paid for with my money.""
"Your money?"" She laughed bitterly.
"We're married, Michael.""
I didn't answer.
Vanella stepped closer.
"You can't just cancel something that affects all of us without discussing it.""
I looked directly at her.
"You didn't discuss taking Ava's belongings.""
"That's different.""
"How?""
"Because Brielle is my daughter!""
"And Ava is mine.""
Vanella's eyes narrowed.
"Exactly. That's the problem. You will always choose her.""
I stood.
"I will always protect my daughter.""
Brielle folded her arms.
"Well, maybe you should have thought about that before marrying Mom.""
Ava slowly rose from the staircase.
"Why do you hate me so much?""
Brielle looked surprised.
"I don't hate you.""
"Then why do you keep taking my things?""
"Because you act like everything belongs to you!""
Ava shook her head.
"I never asked you to buy me anything. I never asked Dad to give me anything. I just want you to stop touching the things that belong to my mother.""
For a moment, Brielle looked away.
Then Vanella stepped between them again.
"Enough. Brielle, go upstairs.""
Brielle hesitated.
"Mom—"
"Now.""
She disappeared up the stairs.
Vanella turned toward me.
"You're making a terrible mistake.""
I looked at her.
"Maybe. But I won't make another one.""
She frowned.
"What does that mean?""
"It means I'm reviewing every document you've asked me to sign.""
The color drained from her face.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
And she knew I had seen it.
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the notification.
Her expression changed completely.
She quickly locked the screen.
I asked, "Who was that?""
"Nobody.""
"Vanella.""
She looked at me.
For the first time since I had known her, she seemed genuinely afraid.
Then she whispered:
May you like
"Michael, you need to understand something. If you look into those documents, you're going to destroy more than our marriage.""
And before I could ask what she meant, she walked away.
