Chapter 6: The Account
The next morning, the three plane tickets were gone.
So was Tasha.
I stood in the kitchen at 6:15 a.m., staring at the empty spot where the envelope had been, while the coffee machine hissed behind me.
For a few seconds, I wondered whether I had imagined the entire night.
Then I looked at my bare left hand.
The pale strip of skin where my wedding ring had been was proof enough.
“Dad?””
I turned.
Jayden stood in the doorway wearing the same hoodie he'd slept in. His hair stuck up on one side, and his backpack hung from one shoulder.
“You okay?”” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Are we still going to school?””
I swallowed.
“Yeah.””
He nodded, then looked at my hand.
“You really took it off.””
I stepped toward him.
“Jayden, listen to me.””
He looked down.
“You didn't do anything wrong.””
His lips pressed together.
“Mom Tasha doesn't want me there.””
“That doesn't change what you are to me.””
He gave me a tiny nod, but I could tell he wasn't convinced.
Then he said something that made my stomach drop.
“She told me that last night too.””
I went still.
“What exactly did she say?””
Jayden shifted his backpack.
“She said I needed to stop making everything difficult.””
My jaw tightened.
“She said the trip was for people who could behave.””
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“She said I always ruined things.””
I felt something inside me tear.
“Tasha said that to you?””
Jayden nodded.
“Then she told me not to tell you because you'd get angry.””
I crouched in front of him.
“You should never have been asked to keep a secret from me.””
His eyes finally lifted.
“Are you leaving too?””
The question nearly broke me.
“No.””
“Promise?””
“I promise.””
He nodded, then rushed upstairs to grab his shoes.
I stayed in the kitchen.
My phone buzzed.
Tasha.
I answered.
“Where are you?””
There was traffic noise behind her.
“On my way to work.””
“You took the tickets.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
A pause.
“Because you made things complicated.””
I laughed once, but there was nothing funny in it.
“You told a nine-year-old he wasn't family.””
“I never said that.””
“You said, ‘He's your family.’”
“Marcus, I was angry.””
“You weren't angry. You meant it.””
Silence.
Then she said, “You don't get to punish me because I wanted one weekend with Darius.””
“One weekend?””
“Yes.””
“You've been planning this for months.””
Her voice changed.
“How did you know?””
I leaned against the counter.
“Because the hotel confirmation was in the email you forwarded to yourself.””
She didn't answer.
I stared at the wall.
“Who else is going?””
Another silence.
“Tasha.””
“Nobody.””
“Then why were there three tickets?””
She exhaled.
“Marcus, just stop.””
“No.””
“I said stop.””
“Who is the third ticket for?””
She hung up.
I stood there listening to the dead line.
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time, it was the bank.
A fraud alert.
I opened it.
A transfer had been made from our joint savings account four days earlier.
$18,700.
Destination: a private account.
I called the bank immediately.
“I didn't authorize that transfer,” I said.
The representative verified my identity.
Then she said, “The transaction was submitted using your wife's credentials.””
My stomach sank.
“Can she move money without me?””
“From the joint account, yes.””
I stared at the number.
Eighteen thousand seven hundred dollars.
Almost exactly what we'd spent years saving.
“For what?”” I asked.
“I'm afraid I can't disclose the recipient's private account information.””
I ended the call and pulled up our statements.
There were more transfers.
$3,200.
$2,900.
$4,500.
Small enough to hide.
Large enough to matter.
I scrolled further.
Most were labeled with ordinary expenses.
School.
Groceries.
Utilities.
But one stood out.
A payment to a law firm.
I stared at the screen.
Tasha had paid a lawyer.
Two weeks ago.
My heart began beating harder.
Why would she hire a lawyer before the argument about the tickets?
I opened the transaction details.
A firm name appeared.
I wrote it down.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
Darius.
He was standing near the staircase, holding his basketball shoes.
“Dad?””
I turned.
His face looked pale.
“Can I talk to you?””
“Of course.””
He came into the kitchen.
Then he looked at my phone.
“You saw it, didn't you?””
“Saw what?””
He looked toward the hallway.
“Mom's been moving money.””
My blood ran cold.
“How do you know?””
“Because she asked me to help her.””
I stared at him.
“Help her do what?””
He sat down slowly.
“She told me not to tell you.””
I waited.
Darius rubbed his hands together.
“She said after the trip, things were going to change.””
“What things?””
“I don't know.””
“Darius.””
He looked me directly in the eye.
“She said she was going to make sure you couldn't stop her.””
The kitchen suddenly felt too small.
I opened my mouth.
Before I could speak, Darius added quietly,
“And Dad…”
“What?””
“The third plane ticket isn't for my mom.””
He reached into his backpack.
And pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I saw the passenger list.””
He handed it to me.
I unfolded it.
Three names.
Mine wasn't one of them.
Jayden's wasn't one.
And one of the names wasn't anyone I knew.
It was a man's name.
*Evan Cole.*
Underneath it, in tiny print, was a destination that made my blood run cold.
It wasn't the resort.
It wasn't the airport.
May you like
It was a one-way flight to Phoenix.
And suddenly, the vacation wasn't a vacation anymore.