She had watched my daughters talk about the trip.
She had listened to them count down the days.
She had known exactly what she intended to do.
My hands turned cold.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
But I did.
Control.
She wanted me to understand that nothing I earned truly belonged to me if she decided someone else deserved it more.
I thanked Linda and hung up.
Then I opened the screenshots from Vanessa’s account.
I scrolled backward.
Three weeks.
Four.
And there it was.
A comment beneath a photograph of a swimsuit.
A friend had written:
Perfect for Tahiti!
Vanessa had replied:
Mom already handled it.
Posted twenty-six days before my tickets were cancelled.
I stared at those words until my vision blurred.
Then I forwarded the screenshot to the airline’s fraud department.
The next month was ugly.
My mother and siblings found temporary accommodation.
Not because of me.
