Chapter 3 - The Gaslight

When I returned home that evening, the atmosphere in the house was thick with anticipation.
Ryan was pacing the kitchen, his phone glued to his ear. Susan was sitting at the dining table, frantically calculating figures on a notepad, while Jessica was humming a cheerful tune as she flipped through a luxury interior design magazine.
The moment I stepped through the door, Ryan hung up his phone and glared at me. "Where the hell have you been, Emma? You weren't at the salon today. I called three times and your assistant said you took a personal day."
"I had some errands to run," I said smoothly, setting my keys on the counter. "Is there a problem?"
Susan stood up, her chest puffed out. "A problem? Yes, there’s a problem! Ryan’s business transaction is experiencing a temporary 'administrative delay' at the bank. They’re saying there’s a hold on the verification process. We need you to call Chase Bank right now and tell them that you approve of any and all transactions under your household name."
I took a deep breath, pretending to be confused. "What transactions, Susan? We don't have any major financial moves planned."
Ryan stepped in front of me, his eyes wide with a desperate, frantic energy. He tried to soften his voice, but the underlying panic was screaming through. "Em, sweetie, listen to me. It’s a surprise. I’m restructuring some of our joint assets to invest in a massive new development. It’s going to set us up for life. But the bank is being incredibly difficult because of some stupid fraud protection algorithm. I just need you to sign this authorization form, and I’ll take care of the rest."
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and pressed it into my hand.
I looked down at it. It was a retroactive authorization form, validating the HELOC and the $200,000 wire transfer. If I signed this, I would legally absolve them of the forgery. I would be signing my own financial death warrant.
"And what do I get out of this 'investment'?" I asked, looking Ryan dead in the eye.
Jessica laughed from the table, not even looking up from her magazine. "Oh, please, Emma. You’re a hair stylist. You wouldn't even know what to do with real money if you had it. Just sign the paper so Ryan can secure our future."
"Our future?" I echoed. "Or your future, Jessica?"
Jessica’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered. "You know what I mean. The family's future."
"I see," I said. I folded the paper carefully and slid it into my purse. "I’ll need to read this over. I don't sign things without looking them over first."
"There's no time to read it over!" Susan shouted, her voice rising to a shrill screech. "The closing is tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.! If that wire transfer isn't cleared by then, we lose the deposit! Sign the damn paper, Emma! You’re his wife, it’s your duty to support him!"
"My duty?" I turned on Susan, my voice dropping to a whisper that somehow cut through her screaming. "My duty is to my son. The son you fed scraps to while you ate $300 worth of food that I paid for. I will look this over tonight, Ryan. And not a second sooner."
I walked toward the stairs. Behind me, I heard Ryan hiss to his mother, "It’s fine. She’ll sign it. She always does. She’s too weak to actually walk away."
I smiled to myself as I reached the top of the stairs. I pulled my phone out and activated the hidden nanny camera app. The small camera I had installed in the living room bookshelf months ago—originally to make sure Ethan’s babysitters were treating him well—was recording every single word.
"Stupid, arrogant girl," Susan’s voice echoed clearly through my phone's earpiece. "Once the condo is in Jessica's name tomorrow, we’ll make sure Ryan files the papers. She won't get a single dime of that house. We’ll leave her with the debt, and she’ll have to crawl back to her trailer-park family in Indiana."
"And the kid?" Jessica asked.
"We'll take him too," Susan sneered. "We can hire a nanny who actually has class. Not some salon girl."
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I turned off the screen. My hand was steady. My heart was cold.
Tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. was the closing. And I was going to make sure it was a day they would never forget.