Chapter 3
I had never heard of Harrison Property Transfer Services.
But Vanessa clearly had.
The moment she saw the name on the receipt, she stopped arguing.
She looked toward the hallway.
Then toward her handbag.
I noticed.
"What is that company?"
She forced a smile.
"Just a real estate office."
"Why do you have documents from them?"
"Because I was looking into refinancing."
I stared at her.
"Refinancing what?"
"The house."
My stomach tightened.
"Our house?"
She looked away.
"Yes."
"Without telling me?"
"I wanted to surprise you."
I almost laughed.
A surprise.
That was her explanation.
My mother had been cleaning floors on damaged knees.
My wife had been hiding documents about our home.
And now she wanted me to believe she was arranging a pleasant surprise.
"Vanessa, stop lying."
Her face hardened.
"I'm your wife."
"Then act like it."
She crossed her arms.
"I don't have to explain every little thing I do."
I took a slow breath.
"You absolutely have to explain anything involving our home."
She looked at the phone in my hand.
"You're blowing this out of proportion."
I turned toward Mom.
"Come sit down."
She hesitated.
I guided her to the sofa.
Vanessa immediately said, "That's my spot."
I stared at her.
The words hung in the room.
My mother slowly pulled away from the cushion.
I felt something inside me break.
"Get out," I said.
Vanessa blinked.
"What?"
"Get away from this room. I need to take care of my mother."
She laughed nervously.
"You can't order me around."
"I'm not discussing this while you keep insulting her."
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then shut it.
She grabbed her handbag and stormed upstairs.
A bedroom door slammed.
Mom flinched.
I sat beside her.
"She's not going to hurt you again."
Mom looked at me.
"Marcus, I don't want to ruin your marriage."
I took her hands.
"You're not ruining anything."
"But she says you love her more than—"
"Mom."
I waited until she looked at me.
"You never have to compete with anyone for my love."
Her mouth trembled.
I gently rubbed her knuckles.
"Have you eaten today?"
She hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
"What did you have for breakfast?"
"Tea."
"And lunch?"
She looked down.
"Vanessa said I could eat after the floors were finished."
My throat tightened.
It was nearly five in the afternoon.
I stood.
"Stay here."
I went to the kitchen and prepared a sandwich, soup, and a glass of water.
When I brought the tray back, Mom began crying.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to do all that."
I placed it in front of her.
"You spent thirty years doing this for me."
She gave a small, broken smile.
I watched her eat.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As though she expected someone to take the food away.
I hated what that told me.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Vanessa.
"You're embarrassing me. We need to talk privately."
I didn't answer.
Instead, I called my younger sister, Renee.
She lived fifteen minutes away.
When she picked up, I struggled to keep my voice steady.
"Renee, can you come over?"
"What's wrong?"
"It's Mom."
Her tone changed immediately.
"Is she hurt?"
"Not seriously, I hope. But something terrible has been happening."
"I'm coming."
She arrived twenty minutes later.
One look at Mom told her something was wrong.
"Mom?"
Mom tried to smile.
"Hello, baby."
Renee knelt beside her.
"Why are your hands so red?"
Mom looked at me.
Then she started crying.
I explained everything.
The cleaning.
The threats.
The withheld meals.
The recordings.
Renee stood so abruptly that her chair scraped across the floor.
"Where is Vanessa?"
"Upstairs."
Renee headed toward the hallway.
I caught her arm.
"Not like this."
She turned toward me.
"Marcus, she abused our mother!"
"I know."
"And you're telling me to be calm?"
"I'm telling you Mom needs us more than she needs another fight."
Renee looked at our mother.
Her anger collapsed into tears.
She returned to the sofa and hugged her.
"I'm sorry, Mama."
Mom began shaking her head.
"Don't apologize."
"I should have noticed."
"We all should have," I whispered.
That evening, Renee helped Mom gather her clothes.
I told them I wanted Mom to stay with Renee until I could make the house safe.
Mom looked worried.
"You're sending me away?"
My heart broke.
"No, Mom. You're going somewhere Vanessa can't frighten you tonight."
Renee kissed her forehead.
"You're coming home with me."
Mom nodded slowly.
Before they left, she caught my wrist.
"Marcus."
"Yes?"
"Please be careful."
I frowned.
"Of what?"
She looked toward the stairs.
"That folder had more than house papers."
My stomach tightened.
"What else?"
"There was a photograph."
"Of who?"
Mom hesitated.
"Vanessa and a man."
I stared at her.
"What man?"
"I don't know his name."
She swallowed.
"But I saw him here once."
"When?"
"Last Thursday."
My blood turned cold.
Last Thursday, I had been working overnight on a construction site.
"What was he doing here?"
Mom looked ashamed.
"I came downstairs to get water. They were in the kitchen."
"Did they see you?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"Vanessa got angry. She told me to go back to my room."
Renee looked at me.
"Marcus."
I raised my hand.
"Mom, what did the man look like?"
"About your age. Tall. Dark jacket. Gold watch."
I tried to remember Vanessa mentioning any visitors.
She hadn't.
"Did you hear them talking?"
Mom nodded.
"Only a little."
"What did they say?"
She looked frightened.
"The man said they couldn't wait much longer."
My chest tightened.
"And Vanessa?"
Mom began trembling.
"She said she needed you to sign the papers first."
I stood perfectly still.
"What papers?"
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
"She said once you signed, the house would be theirs."
Renee gasped.
I stared toward the staircase.
My wife had been forcing my elderly mother to work like a servant.
Now I was hearing she might be planning to take my home.
I looked at the security camera.
The camera covered the living room and part of the hallway.
I opened the recordings again.
Thursday.
8:17 p.m.
A man entered through the front door.
Vanessa greeted him with a kiss.
Not on the cheek.
On the mouth.
I felt my entire body go cold.
Then I heard his voice.
"How much longer are you going to keep pretending you love him?"
Vanessa laughed.
"Until Marcus signs everything over."
I stared at the screen.
My wife wasn't just betraying my mother.
May you like
She was betraying me.
And she had no idea I was watching.
