Then I logged off.
Tessa deleted her post by morning.
Not because she regretted it.
Nathan had sent her a letter.
Two days before closing, I received an unexpected call.
From my mother.
“Ian.”
Her voice sounded strange.
“What happened?”
“It’s Tessa.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she do?”
“She’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She packed.”
“That’s good.”
“No. Ian.”
Mom started crying.
“She took money.”
I sat down.
“What money?”
“Your father’s safe.”
The room went quiet.
“How much?”
“Thirty-two thousand dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Dad kept emergency cash.
Always had.
Old habit.
Distrust of banks.
Tessa knew where the safe was.
“Did she leave a note?”
“A text.”
“What did it say?”
Mom hesitated.
Then read it.
You all chose Ian’s money over me. I’m done being blamed for everything. Don’t contact me.
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
