But I finally had something better than helplessness.
A case number.
That night, the twins slept in my bed because they were too excited to stay in theirs.
I lay between them staring at the ceiling.
At 11:42 p.m., my phone vibrated.
Vanessa.
I almost answered.
Instead, I watched it ring.
Then came a text.
Why did Mom’s card stop working?
I stared at it.
Another message appeared.
She says you normally put money in before trips.
I laughed.
Quietly at first.
Then so hard I had to cover my mouth to keep from waking the girls.
They were in Tahiti, apparently expecting me to provide spending money for the vacation they had stolen from my children.
I typed three words.
Enjoy your trip.
Then I blocked her.
Hawaii was the first place in years where I remembered what happiness felt like before it became something I had to earn.
