Chapter 2 - THE CASH ENVELOPES
Nobody moved for several seconds.
Then Aunt Melissa reached into her purse.
She pulled out a white envelope.
“Three hundred dollars,” she said quietly.
Ron snapped his head toward her.
“Melissa.”
She ignored him.
“You told us Erin and Caleb were trying to recover hospital expenses.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
Melissa looked sick.
“He said you two had unexpected medical bills after the C-section. He said anyone staying here should contribute.”
I looked at Caleb.
“Are we having trouble paying our bills?”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
I knew exactly what was in our checking account.
I knew our insurance deductible.
I knew the emergency fund I had built before Grace was born.
We were not rich, but we were fine.
“Then where did the money go?”
Ron stepped forward.
“This is ridiculous.”
“How many people paid you?”
“People contributed voluntarily.”
“How many?”
He didn’t answer.
Melissa opened her phone.
Within two minutes, the party transformed into an accounting session.
Joe had sent $400.
Dana had sent $500.
Ron’s cousin Patrick had paid $250.
Someone else had transferred $600 because Ron promised the upstairs office and private bathroom.
My upstairs office.
The room where I worked remotely three days a week.
By the time Melissa finished adding numbers, Ron had collected more than $3,800.
Caleb stood beside me as pale as the hospital sheets I had left that morning.
“I knew Dad asked a few people to chip in for food,” he said.
I turned toward him.
“Stop.”
He stopped.
“If you lie to me one more time today, you can leave with them.”
That finally broke something in him.
“I didn’t know he was charging for rooms.”
“But you knew he was collecting money.”
“Yes.”
“Did you receive any?”
“No.”
Ron laughed.
“Now you’re acting like I robbed a bank.”
I reached for my phone.
Ron’s smile vanished.
“What are you doing?”
“Documenting everything.”
“For what?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
At that moment, a teenager came down the stairs carrying a framed photograph.
My framed photograph.
“Uncle Ron,” he said, “where do you want the rest of the stuff from the office?”
I looked upstairs.
“What rest of the stuff?”
The boy froze.
Caleb whispered my name.
I handed Grace’s carrier to Melissa.
Then I climbed the stairs despite the pain.
Every step felt like fire.
At the end of the hallway, my office door stood open.
My desk was gone.
My computer monitors were gone.
Two filing cabinets were missing.
And stacked against the wall were cardboard boxes labeled:
ERIN - STORAGE.
I opened the first box.
May you like
Inside were tax records, client files, and the deed paperwork from when I bought the house.
Except the deed folder was empty.
