Chapter 4 - The Phone Call that Ruined Everything
The silence in the room was absolute.
My mother looked between me and the USB drive as if it were a bomb.
Tabitha’s hand was shaking so hard she had to grip the table.
"Who did you call?"
she demanded,
her voice barely a whisper.
"I called Julian,"
I said.
Tabitha’s jaw dropped.
Julian was her husband’s boss,
the man who essentially owned their lifestyle.
"And I called your husband,
Mark,"
I added.
"He’s on his way here now."
"I told him he might want to ask you about the $40,000 missing from the corporate account."
"The money you used to buy that jewelry you told him was a gift from Mom."
Tabitha let out a strangled cry,
falling back into her chair.
"You bitch!"
she screamed.
"You’re going to ruin my marriage!"
"You ruined my daughter’s sense of safety,"
I replied,
my voice as cold as ice.
"You left a child in a mall to 'teach her a lesson'."
"Now,
I’m teaching you one."
"Anya,
stop this at once!"
my mother shouted,
standing up.
"This is family!
You don't do this to family!"
"You stopped being family the moment you let her leave Brynn,"
I said,
turning to her.
"And since I’m the one who handles your finances,"
"I’ve decided to stop."
"The mortgage on this house is two months behind,
Mother."
"I was going to pay it tomorrow."
"I’m not going to do that now."
"In fact,
I’ve already notified the bank that I am no longer the guarantor on your accounts."
My mother’s face turned a sickly shade of grey.
"You can't do that.
I’ll lose the house!"
"Maybe you can move in with Tabitha,"
I suggested.
"Oh,
wait.
Mark is probably packing her bags as we speak."
Just then,
the sound of a car pulling into the driveway echoed through the house.
It was Mark’s car.
The "perfect" husband was home,
and he was not in a celebratory mood.
Tabitha scrambled to her feet,
frantically trying to smooth her hair.
"Anya,
please,"
she begged,
her arrogance replaced by sheer terror.
"Don't do this.
I was joking!
I didn't mean to leave her!"
"Save it for the divorce court,"
I said,
walking toward the door.
I met Mark in the hallway.
He looked devastated,
holding his phone in his hand.
"Is it true,
Anya?"
he asked,
his voice cracking.
"She left the baby at the mall?"
"Go ask her yourself,
Mark,"
I said,
placing a hand on his shoulder.
"And ask her about the bank account."
I walked past him,
out into the cool night air.
I could hear the screaming start inside the house.
Tabitha’s shrill denials,
Mark’s booming voice,
and my mother’s frantic attempts to play peacemaker.
It was a symphony of chaos,
and for the first time in my life,
I wasn't the one trying to fix it.
I reached my car and got in.
Brynn was asleep in her car seat,
her breathing rhythmic and peaceful.
I started the engine and drove away,
leaving the lights of my mother’s house behind me.
I didn't feel guilty.
I didn't feel sad.
I felt light.
I felt free.
I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone.
I had one more call to make.
"Hello,
Detective?"
I said when the line picked up.
"My name is Anya Vance."
"I’d like to report a case of child endangerment and abandonment."
"Yes,
May you like
I have witness testimony."
"And I’d like to file it tonight."
