Chapter 3 - MY FATHER'S PASSWORD
My father swore he had not sent the form.
For the first time that night, I believed him.
Not because he had suddenly become trustworthy.
Because fear looked different on him than guilt.
“I don’t use my work email at home,” he said.
Deborah looked toward the hallway.
Dad noticed.
“So who does?”
She said nothing.
He stood.
“Deborah.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You leave your laptop unlocked all the time.”
His face changed.
“You used my company computer?”
“It was convenient.”
“You sent forged documents from my account?”
“I sent one travel form.”
“One forged travel form under my name!”
Melissa started crying.
Her children were upstairs.
That mattered.
None of this was their fault.
I lowered my voice.
“Where are the kids?”
“In the playroom.”
“Keep them there.”
Melissa looked at me, surprised.
“I’m not doing this in front of them.”
For the first time all evening, her arrogance cracked.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
Then I returned to Deborah.
“Tell me exactly what you did.”
She exhaled dramatically.
“I changed the passenger names.”
“How?”
“You left the booking confirmation here after dinner.”
I remembered.
I had shown Dad the balcony cabin I booked for Owen and Lily.
I had printed the itinerary.
Then left one copy beside his computer.
“The confirmation had the reservation number.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Your birth date was in Dad’s emergency-contact file.”
I looked at my father.
He looked sick.
“You keep copies of my information?”
“For emergencies.”
Deborah had turned every emergency safeguard into a toolkit.
She had the booking number.
My birthday.
My signature.
My father’s company email.
Enough to convince a rushed customer-service employee that she was acting with permission.
“Why?”
I asked.
Deborah’s expression hardened.
“Because Melissa’s children deserved something good.”
“So did mine.”
“They already have you.”
That sentence hit differently.
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
“Melissa has been struggling.”
I turned toward my half-sister.
“What happened?”
She wiped her eyes.
“My rent went up. Jason stopped paying support regularly.”
“And that makes my children expendable?”
“No.”
“But you took their tickets.”
“Mom said you would understand afterward.”
I laughed.
“After you were on the ship?”
Melissa looked down.
Exactly.
They had planned to tell me so late that reversing it would make me look like the villain.
I would either surrender or become the aunt who made two children cry at the terminal.
Then my phone buzzed.
An alert from my bank.
ANOTHER TRANSACTION DECLINED.
$7,200.
Travel merchant.
I stared at the screen.
The charge had been attempted ten minutes earlier.
While all of us were standing in the living room.
I looked at Deborah’s hands.
No phone.
Then Melissa’s.
Her phone was on the table.
Dad checked his pocket.
His phone was there.
Nobody in the room had made the charge.
May you like
Which meant someone else had access to my card.
And they were still trying to spend from it.
