”
“Go back to bed
“This does not feel like a busy season.”
“Go back to bed, sweetheart,” I said, gently releasing her hand.
She stood up slowly, her shadow stretching long across the floorboards.
“He took the spare key to the van, too.”
I waited until her bedroom door clicked shut upstairs before I let out my breath.
I did not sleep, instead watching the pale shadows of the pine trees sway against the living room wall.
The morning sun was weak, casting long, pale stripes across the kitchen linoleum when I finally stood up at seven.
Mary was already there, sweeping up the crumbs from the children’s quick breakfast.
“The boys already left for the bus,” she said, not looking up from her red dustpan.
“Thank you, Mary,” I said, leaning against the counter to take the weight off my hips.
She swept the broom near the base of the dining table, then stopped, leaning down to reach under the edge.
“What is that?” I asked.
She pulled out a small, crumpled slip of blue paper that had been wedged between the wooden table leg and the wall.
Author
Jordan M. Hayes
I smoothed out the paper on the counter with the palm of my hand
“It looks like a receipt,” she said, handing it over to me.
I smoothed out the paper on the counter with the palm of my hand.
It was a receipt from the Oak Harbor Fitness Center, dated three days ago, for a premium monthly membership.
Evan had not been inside a gym since his college track days, and he always complained about the cost of our local family pass.
At the bottom of the slip, beneath the total of eighty-five dollars, was a line for a secondary account holder.
My eyes locked onto the name printed in small, clear letters next to the second card number.
The membership belonged to someone named Brielle.
I turned the paper over, looking for some other explanation, some detail that would make sense.
“Whose name is that, Mom?” Mary asked, leaning over my shoulder.
I folded the blue slip twice and slipped it into the pocket of my cardigan.
“Just some business account of your father’s,” I said, my voice barely steady.
She looked at me for a long moment, the broom still resting against her knee.
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Author
Jordan M. Hayes
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