Chapter 2

“If you don't believe me, check the records. Two nights ago at nine o'clock, I'm the one who called 911!”

My mother-in-law knocked the phone out of my hand.

It hit the floor tiles, and cracks spidered across the screen.

“Oh, so now you think you're in the right? Not only do you hit her, you also hold back her household money!”

“She has to borrow from us just to buy groceries!”

I bent down and picked up the phone. The screen still lit up.

I opened my photos and pulled up the screenshot of the $8,600 credit card charge.

“Borrowing for groceries? She just charged $8,600 on clothes at Trade Center Plaza this morning!”

I held the phone out to the neighbors.

Before Doris could get a good look at it,

the sound of crying came from outside the door.

Melissa walked in wearing an old, faded jacket, her hair a mess.

Her eyes were red and swollen, and there wasn't a trace of makeup on her face. She looked like a completely different person from the polished woman I'd seen that morning.

She went straight to her mother, threw herself into her arms, and burst into sobs.

“Mom, stop. Let's just go. I don't want anything anymore.”

“As long as I can get out of this house alive, that's enough.”

Accusations rose from the crowd at once.

“Lucas, you've gone too far.”

“You've driven your wife to this, and you're still trying to fool people with a fake screenshot?”

“What a shame. What's going to happen to those two kids?”

I stood there, watching Melissa sob.

She had buried her face in her mother's shoulder.

Her body shook with each gasping breath.

Three o'clock that afternoon, the Community Mediation Office.

Melissa and I sat on opposite sides of a long table.

Director Jordan Whitaker of the mediation office sat between us, holding a thermos.

“Lucas, Melissa, isn't there any problem you two can't work out behind closed doors?”

Director Whitaker blew on her tea and glanced at Melissa.

Melissa kept her head down, twisting her fingers together, tears dripping one by one onto the backs of her hands.

“Jordan, I really can't go on like this.”

Her voice was hoarse.

“He doesn't just treat me like a suspect. He's even taken my paycheck card.”

“He only gives me $2,000 a month for living expenses, and I still have to pay the water, electric, and gas bills.”

Director Whitaker frowned and turned to me.

“Lucas, that's on you. What man these days still controls his wife's paycheck?”

I took a stack of printed bank statements out of my bag.

It was a thick pile, and I slapped it down hard on the table.

“Director Whitaker, take a look at this.”

“These aren't my statements. These are her online payday loan bills from the past six months.”

“She got hooked on online gambling and lost $400,000 in six months.”

“I hold on to her paycheck card because I'm paying off her debts. If I didn't, she would have bled this family dry a long time ago!”

I pointed at the dense rows of charges on the statements.

Director Whitaker froze, then reached over and took the statements.

Melissa's head jerked up. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but tears quickly covered it.

“You're lying! That was... you forced me to borrow that money!”

She shot to her feet, pointing at me and crying out loud.

“You lost money in the stock market and used my ID to borrow from loan sharks!”

“And now you want to pin it all on me!”

She hurried over and grabbed Director Whitaker's arm.

“Jordan, you have to stand up for me. He's using the kids to threaten me. He said if I don't take on his debt, he'll never let me see Noah and Ruby again.”

Director Whitaker looked at the statements in her hand, then at Melissa, who was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

The statements really did show only borrowing and repayments. There was no way to tell where the money had ultimately gone.

“Lucas, what's really going on with these bills?”

Director Whitaker's face darkened.

I took a deep breath, holding back my anger.

“All the transfer records are on her old phone. She always kept it locked in a drawer and wouldn't even tell me the passcode.”

“Have her bring out that old phone. One look, and you'll know exactly where the money went!”

I stared at Melissa.

She took a step back and covered her face.

“That phone's been gone for ages! It was stolen last month when I took the kids to the amusement park.”

“So what am I supposed to prove anything with now?”

“You knew I had no evidence. That's the only reason you dare to slander me so shamelessly!”

Outside the mediation room, a few older women who had come in on errands stopped and pointed at us through the glass door.

Director Whitaker sighed and pushed the statements back to me.

“Lucas, everything comes down to evidence.”

“You can't accuse your own wife without any proof.”

“Here's what we'll do. Both of you go home and cool off for a few days. The children are innocent in all this.”

Director Whitaker stood up and went to the door to open it and see us out.

In the second she turned her back,

I saw it clearly.

Melissa lowered the hands covering her face.

Tears still clung to the corners of her eyes, but her lips quickly tugged upward.

It was a cold smile she didn't even bother to hide.

That smile was full of mockery and triumph.

The next second, when Director Whitaker turned back around,

Melissa had already slipped back into a look of heartbroken grief.