Chapter 5 - My Mother's Version of FamilyMom called an emergency family dinner.
First, I searched the casino's public website and found its main number.
Then I called that number and asked to be transferred to guest services.
I wasn't going to hand personal information to someone simply because they knew my sister's name.
A man named Mark answered.
“Yes, I sent that message.”
“Why is my sister's emergency contact being called?”
There was a pause.
“I have to be careful what I disclose.”
“Understood.”
“She left an item on property Saturday morning. We were unable to reach her. The contact information she provided listed you.”
“What item?”
“I really need her authorization before describing it.”
“Then why contact me?”
“Because the phone number she gave us is disconnected.”
That didn't make sense.
Trisha's number worked.
I'd received six messages from it that morning alone.
“Which number did she give you?”
He read the last four digits.
Not hers.
Dad's old landline.
Disconnected three years ago.
“Can you tell me what time she was there?”
“I'm afraid I can't provide guest activity.”
“Can you tell me what time the incident report was written?”
Another pause.
“Approximately 10:40 a.m.”
The barbecue had started at two.
Hannah said Trisha took her savings around eleven.
I thanked Mark and hung up.
Neil sat across from me at the kitchen table.
“So she was at a casino before the party.”
“Apparently.”
“Could be breakfast.”
“Sure.”
“You don't believe that.”
“No.”
I did something I hated next.
I checked Trisha's social media.
Her Saturday morning story had been deleted, but a friend had tagged her in a photo at 9:18 a.m.
Two women.
Casino restaurant.
Mimosas.
Caption: Pre-birthday luck!
Neil whistled.
“That isn't great.”
“No.”
At 7:30, Dad called again.
This time he sounded uncomfortable.
“Your sister wants to borrow my credit card.”
“For tuition?”
“She said school expenses.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“She got angry.”
“Dad, I need to ask something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Has Trisha borrowed other money recently?”
Silence.
Then: “Define recently.”
My stomach dropped.
“Six months.”
Dad began listing.
Three hundred Friday.
Five hundred in June.
Two hundred in May.
Mom had apparently covered a utility bill.
Aunt Susan had loaned Trisha eight hundred for “car repairs.”
My cousin Beth had paid for two months of Logan's summer program.
Altogether, the number was already more than three thousand.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Dad sighed.
“Because she asked us not to.”
“Of course.”
“She said you'd lecture her.”
“I would've asked what was happening.”
“Maybe that's what she meant.”
The following morning, I sent Trisha one email.
Please provide receipts showing how Hannah's $1,634.26 was spent. I am asking because you told me it was used for the children's gifts. If any portion remains unspent, return it immediately.
She replied three minutes later.
I do not owe you an accounting.
I answered:
You owe Hannah one.
No response.
At noon, something unexpected happened.
Stella called me.
She was eleven.
Old enough to have her own phone.
Young enough that I almost didn't answer because I worried Trisha had put her up to it.
“Aunt Claire?”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Her voice sounded tiny.
“Are you mad at me?”
My anger vanished.
“No.”
“Because of the presents?”
“No, Stella.”
“Mom said you're mad because Logan and I got nice things.”
“I'm not mad at you.”
“Are you taking Mom's school away because of us?”
“No.”
I chose my words carefully.
“I decided not to pay for something I had planned to pay for because of a choice your mom made. You and Logan are not responsible.”
Stella was silent.
Then she whispered, “She returned some of the presents.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
My pulse quickened.
“All of them?”
“No.”
“Do you know which?”
“The tablet. Logan's shoes. My backpack.”
Those were the most expensive items I'd seen.
“Do you know why?”
“She said she needed the money.”
“For tuition?”
“I don't know.”
I didn't ask anything else.
Children were not investigators.
“Thank you for telling me. And listen to me carefully. None of this is your job to fix, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
After we hung up, I called Caroline.
“My sister returned the gifts.”
“Interesting.”
“If she used Hannah's cash, wouldn't store refunds go back as cash?”
“Depends how she paid.”
“Exactly.”
Caroline understood instantly.
“You think she used Hannah's money somewhere else.”
“Yes.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Not yet.”
“Then don't accuse her publicly.”
“I won't.”
That evening, Trisha showed up at my house.
No warning.
Hannah was upstairs.
Neil opened the front door but didn't let her enter.
“I need to talk to Claire.”
“You can talk from there.”
“This isn't your business.”
“It became my business when you involved my daughter.”
I came to the door.
Trisha looked exhausted.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back.
Her hands shook slightly.
“You need to put the tuition money back.”
“No.”
“I can repay Hannah.”
My eyes narrowed.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I held out my hand.
She stared at it.
“What?”
“Give me the money.”
“I'll transfer it.”
“Do it now.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I don't have my banking app set up.”
“You've used it before.”
“My password isn't working.”
“Then bring cash tomorrow.”
“I said I'll pay!”
“Then we agree.”
She leaned toward me.
“You don't understand what you're doing.”
“Actually, I understand more every day.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You returned some of the gifts.”
Her face went still.
“Stella called me.”
She exploded instantly.
“You are questioning my daughter behind my back?”
“She called me.”
“You're turning my kids against me!”
“No.”
“I returned the gifts because you left me with forty thousand dollars to cover!”
“The first tuition installment is under five thousand.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
That told me she hadn't expected me to know.
“Where did Hannah's money go?”
“I told you.”
“Into gifts you returned.”
“Yes.”
“Then you have the refund.”
“I used it.”
“For what?”
“Bills.”
“What bills?”
“My bills.”
“Casino bills?”
She froze.
There it was.
Just half a second.
But enough.
“Were you gambling Saturday morning?”
Her eyes flashed.
“You're spying on me now?”
“Were you?”
“I'm an adult.”
“With money you pressured from a seven-year-old?”
“I didn't use her money to gamble.”
“Then show me.”
“I don't have to.”
“No. You don't.”
I stepped back.
“But until you repay Hannah, you are not welcome in this house.”
Her face twisted with disbelief.
“You're banning me?”
“Yes.”
“From my niece?”
“Until I trust you around her.”
“You think I'm dangerous?”
“I think you convinced a child that refusing to surrender her savings made her bad.”
“That is not what happened!”
“Hannah remembers your exact words.”
“She's seven!”
“Yes.”
The way she said it told me everything about how little she respected Hannah's version of events.
Trisha glanced toward the staircase.
“Hannah!”
Neil stepped fully into the doorway.
“Leave.”
“I want to talk to her!”
“No.”
“She is my niece!”
“And this is our home.”
Trisha shoved one hand against the door.
Neil didn't move.
“Leave before I call the police.”
She looked from him to me.
“You're really doing this?”
“Yes.”
Her voice dropped.
“You think you're better than me because you've got money.”
“No.”
“You've always thought it.”
“No, Trisha. I think I'm responsible for protecting my child. Right now, protecting her means keeping you away.”
She stepped backward.
“Fine.”
She pointed at me.
“But when I lose my place at school, that's on you.”
“No.”
I closed the door.
“That's on the thirty-three-year-old who spent years assuming someone else would always rescue her.”
The next morning, an envelope appeared in our mailbox.
No stamp.
Inside were thirty-seven twenty-dollar bills.
Seven hundred forty dollars.
No note.
I counted twice.
Neil looked over my shoulder.
“So we're still missing?”
“Eight hundred ninety-four dollars and twenty-six cents.”
He stared at the cash.
“That's a very specific hole.”
“Yes.”
And that was when I remembered the photograph from the casino.
The envelope behind Trisha's purse.
I enlarged it on my phone.
May you like
Along the side, barely visible, was a handwritten number.
900.
