Chapter 5 - THE SON I THOUGHT I KNEW
Neither of us spoke.
Harrison stood there holding the emergency account folder against his chest.
I stared at it.
Then at him.
“What are you doing?”
He swallowed.
“I was looking for tax paperwork.”
“At one in the morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“With my bank folder?”
His face tightened.
“Mom, don’t make this bigger than it is.”
The old line.
Different words.
Same meaning.
Don’t ask questions.
Don’t cause trouble.
Don’t force me to explain.
I held out my hand.
“Give it to me.”
He hesitated.
That hesitation hurt more than I expected.
“Harrison.”
He handed over the folder.
“How did you get into my office?”
“I found the spare key.”
“There is no spare key.”
“There was in the junk drawer.”
I stared at him.
I had placed one there that afternoon.
Then removed it twenty minutes later and put it in my bedroom.
I knew exactly where it was.
“You’re lying.”
He looked at me.
“Mom—”
“How did you get in?”
He exhaled sharply.
“Sloan had a small lock-pick kit.”
I almost laughed.
“What?”
“It’s not what it sounds like.”
“Then explain what it sounds like.”
“She bought it online months ago. It’s a hobby thing.”
I stared at him.
“My daughter-in-law is picking locks in my house as a hobby?”
He closed his eyes.
“You’re making everything sound insane.”
“It is insane.”
My voice rose.
He glanced toward the stairs.
“Keep your voice down.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No.”
For the first time in my life, I didn’t care whether Sloan woke up.
I didn’t care whether the neighbors heard.
I didn’t care whether Harrison became angry.
“What were you looking for?”
“Tax records.”
“Why?”
“I need them for something.”
“What?”
“A loan.”
My heart dropped.
“What loan?”
“A small business loan.”
“For what business?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I’m working on something.”
“You said you were consulting.”
“I am.”
“You said you had clients.”
“I do.”
“What business?”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“What business, Harrison?”
“A marketing company.”
“What is it called?”
He looked at me.
That was when I knew.
There was no company.
Or at least not one he wanted me to know about.
I lowered my voice.
“You’ve been lying to me.”
“That’s not fair.”
“How long?”
“I’m not doing this at one in the morning.”
“You broke into my office.”
“I live here.”
“You live in the guest room.”
That hit him.
Good.
He stepped back.
“You know what? Maybe Sloan is right.”
“About what?”
“You like controlling people.”
I almost slapped him.
Not because I wanted to hurt him.
Because for one second I saw a stranger wearing my son’s face.
Instead, I tightened my grip on the folder.
“Thirty days just became fourteen.”
His eyes widened.
“You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
“You’d throw your own son out?”
“I would remove any grown man from my home if he picked my lock and stole my financial records.”
“I wasn’t stealing.”
“Then stop acting like a thief.”
He walked away.
At the stairs, he turned back.
“You’re going to destroy this family.”
I looked at him.
“No, Harrison.”
I held up the folder.
“I think you already did.”
The next morning, I drove to a locksmith.
By noon, every exterior lock had been changed.
My office lock was replaced with a keypad.
My bedroom got one too.
I changed my email password.
My phone password.
Every password I could remember.
Then Brenda came over.
I told her everything.
She listened quietly.
When I finished, she asked one question.
“Diane, how much money is in that emergency account?”
I hesitated.
“About one hundred and eighty thousand.”
Brenda’s face went pale.
“And Harrison had access?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me.
“Diane…”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Mrs. Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“This is Melissa from First County Bank. I’m calling about your appointment.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is something wrong?”
There was a pause.
May you like
Then she said:
“I think you should come in sooner.”
