Chapter 9 - THE MOTEL ROOM
Mom wasn't at home.
Police discovered that twenty minutes later.
There was blood on the kitchen floor.
Not much.
But enough.
Her phone had been smashed.
My father’s truck was gone.
Ruiz told me not to panic.
I panicked anyway.
“He took her.”
“We don't know that.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Hannah—”
“He said he had something that would make me sign.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone froze.
Ruiz motioned for me to answer.
“Hello?”
Dad.
“Hannah.”
His voice sounded completely normal.
That scared me more than shouting.
“Where is Mom?”
“Safe.”
“Put her on.”
“We need to talk first.”
“No.”
“You've always had trouble listening.”
“And you've always had trouble understanding the word no.”
His breathing changed.
Good.
I wanted him angry.
Angry people made mistakes.
“Dad, police know about Grandma’s money.”
Silence.
“They know about Silver Pine. They know about the forged loan. They know about the insurance.”
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I have the documents.”
“Documents can be misunderstood.”
“What about the recording where you said accidents happen?”
Long pause.
“Hannah…”
For the first time, he sounded uncertain.
I kept going.
“Where's Mom?”
“She betrayed me.”
“You used her.”
“She enjoyed the benefits.”
“Where is she?”
“She’ll be fine if you stop being difficult.”
Ruiz wrote on a notepad.
KEEP HIM TALKING.
Dad continued.
“You sign the sale documents. Warner transfers the money. Your mother goes home.”
“That won't cover what you owe.”
“I'll handle the rest.”
“Like you handled Grandma?”
His voice turned hard.
“That woman poisoned you against me.”
“She left me $150,000.”
“She left money to children who didn't understand sacrifice.”
“I was twenty-four.”
“You were spoiled.”
I almost laughed.
I worked two jobs to start my bakery.
Melissa got a new car when her boutique failed.
But Dad had rewritten history so many times that he believed his own version.
“Where are you?”
“You don't need to know.”
I heard something faint behind him.
A train horn.
Then Mom shouted.
“HANNAH, DON'T—”
A slap.
My entire body jerked.
“Dad!”
“She needs to learn when to be quiet.”
Ruiz wrote:
TRAIN. INTERSTATE?
Another sound came through.
A motel air conditioner.
Then a television.
An advertisement.
“Dinner all day at Millie’s Route 8 Diner…”
Jasmine immediately searched her phone.
“There are two Millie’s Diners,” she whispered.
I kept Dad talking.
“You're not getting the bakery.”
“Then your mother stays with me.”
“You think kidnapping her fixes this?”
“Don't use stupid words.”
“Kidnapping?”
“She’s my wife.”
“That doesn't mean you own her.”
“It means this is family business.”
“No, Dad. It means you're finished.”
He laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“I wasn't the one who forged your signature.”
I stopped.
Ruiz looked up.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask your perfect little sister.”
Then he disconnected.
Everyone turned toward Melissa.
She went white.
I stared at her.
“Tell me he was lying.”
May you like
Melissa began to cry.
And for once, she didn't try to deny it.
