Chapter 4: The Key

I sat on the closet floor with the phone in my lap until the room went dark.

Fourteen months.

He'd started moving our money the week he gave me an anniversary card with a lighthouse on it.

I opened the envelope under the lamp.

Temporary terms.

Separate residences.

The house "held in the name of Glenn R. Chastain."

A monthly allowance of eight hundred dollars "pending final settlement."

I read it twice.

Then I went to bed in the guest room and didn't sleep for the second night in a row.

Glenn came back for breakfast.

He hadn't eaten breakfast at home on a weekday in three years.

He stood at the head of the kitchen table in a pressed blue shirt.

All three kids were there.

He'd planned that too.

"You need to be out by Friday," he said.

Caleb's fork hit his plate.

I looked up from the stove.

"Excuse me?"

"The house is in my name. The accounts go through the business. My lawyer says separate homes keep things clean."

Clean.

Glenn loved words that made mean things sound like filing.

"You want me out of my own house."

"I want everyone to move forward."

"By throwing me out."

"It's not practical for everyone to stay here."

Everyone.

Brandi was already in the head count.

"Where's the money, Glenn?"

He didn't even blink.

"Those funds are being managed for business reasons."

"Ninety-two thousand dollars."

Tyler looked up.

He hadn't known the number.

I saw it.

"You planned this," I said.

"Of course I planned it." Glenn picked up a piece of bacon off my pan. "Did you think I'd just wing it?"

The honesty was worse than a lie.

"You had me clipping coupons while you moved our savings out the back door."

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