Chapter 4 - What Thomas Planned for Tomorrow
I called the police.
Whatever complicated feelings I had about Thomas no longer mattered.
Someone had photographed my home.
Someone knew about Chloe.
The message was no longer financial.
It was a threat.
Rachel moved Chloe to another location while authorities began documenting everything.
I wanted to go to my daughter.
My attorney told me that was exactly what someone sending a threatening message might expect.
So I waited.
It was agony.
At 9:20 p.m., Thomas finally called.
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Is Chloe with you?”
“Why?”
“Just answer me.”
“No.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Good.”
“Thomas, what happened?”
“I borrowed money.”
“I know.”
“Not from a bank.”
The pieces began fitting together.
His business had started failing almost eighteen months earlier.
Instead of telling me, Thomas hid the losses.
Then he borrowed privately.
At first, he believed he could recover.
He borrowed more.
When repayment deadlines arrived, he moved money between accounts.
More lies.
More debt.
More desperation.
“How much?”
He named a figure that made me sit down.
Several million.
“What does my apartment have to do with this?”
“They gave me until tomorrow.”
“So you decided to steal from me.”
“I was going to replace it.”
I laughed.
“You were leaving with Courtney.”
Silence.
“That was different.”
“Different?”
“I panicked.”
“You planned a sale, forged documents, and arranged to leave the state. That isn’t panic, Thomas. That’s planning.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
And for the first time, I heard something I had never expected from him.
Shame.
It didn’t erase anything.
But it was there.
“Where are you?”
“Not home.”
“Who sent the photograph?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said they know Chloe.”
“They mentioned her school.”
My blood turned cold.
“What exactly did they say?”
“That I had a beautiful daughter and should think carefully before making them wait.”
I gripped the phone.
“Did you give them our address?”
“They already had it.”
“Did you tell them about my property?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt differently.
He had brought strangers into the map of our lives.
“Tomorrow’s sale was supposed to cover enough to get them off me.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Florida?”
He went silent.
“You were really going to leave?”
“I thought if I disappeared, you and Chloe would be safer.”
“With Courtney?”
“There’s no defense for that.”
At least we agreed on something.
“Turn yourself in,” I said.
“What?”
“Tell the police everything.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“They’ll destroy me.”
“You did that yourself.”
The words came out colder than I expected.
He breathed for several seconds.
Then whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
“I don’t need your apology tonight. Chloe needs you to stop making decisions for everyone else.”
He eventually agreed to meet investigators.
Not me.
Authorities.
That distinction mattered.
By morning, the situation was being handled by people far more qualified than Teresa or me.
For the first time in twenty-four hours, I allowed myself to think about something other than immediate danger.
Teresa.
We sat together in a quiet waiting room.
“You saved us,” I said.
She looked up.
“I stopped a bus.”
“You did more than that.”
“I should have done something years ago.”
“Yes.”
She accepted it.
Then I surprised both of us.
“But yesterday matters too.”
Tears filled her eyes.
I wasn’t forgiving thirty-four years.
I was acknowledging one day.
That was enough.
For now.
By afternoon, investigators had Thomas’s records.
The threatening message and the photograph were preserved as evidence.
The property transaction remained frozen.
The forged authorization could not be used.
My assets were protected.
And Thomas?
Thomas had finally run out of lies.
He admitted the debt.
The attempted property sale.
The affair.
The plan to leave.
Everything.
Almost everything.
Because one question remained.
How had Teresa learned about the sale before I did?
Her explanation about following Thomas accounted for Courtney.
It didn’t account for the exact signing date.
That evening, I asked her.
She became quiet.
“I heard him.”
“Where?”
“Outside your building.”
“When?”
“Three nights ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He was talking to someone in his car.”
“About the sale?”
“Yes.”
“And you just happened to be there?”
She looked embarrassed.
“I told you. I was watching.”
“Teresa.”
“I know.”
“You need to stop doing that.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“I think I can retire now.”
Against every reasonable instinct, I laughed.
It was the first time either of us had laughed.
Then her smile vanished.
“There was something else.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“Thomas mentioned your aunt’s account.”
“I know.”
“He also said he needed the original estate file.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
I did.
Or at least I suspected.
The original file was at home.
Inside a locked cabinet in my bedroom.
If someone wanted it, they might still go there.
Police had advised me not to return until the situation was clearer.
That night, cameras were placed around the apartment.
Nobody told Thomas.
Nobody told Courtney.
Nobody except investigators, my attorney, Teresa, and me knew I wasn’t returning.
At 1:14 a.m., movement triggered one of the cameras.
A figure entered the hallway.
My phone lit up.
I watched the live feed.
A person wearing a dark jacket moved toward the bedroom.
Not Thomas.
The figure opened the cabinet.
Then stopped.
Because the estate folder wasn’t there.
Investigators had already removed it.
The intruder turned.
The camera caught a face.
Teresa gasped beside me.
I looked at her.
“You know him?”
She nodded slowly.
“That’s the man I saw meeting Thomas.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know his name.”
The man disappeared from view.
Minutes later, officers intercepted him leaving the building.
What followed would take weeks to untangle.
But one thing became clear immediately.
Thomas had created a disaster much larger than an affair or a stolen apartment.
May you like
And now the people he had dragged into our lives were beginning to understand that the woman they expected to be conveniently sitting on a bus to Cincinnati was still in Cleveland.
Watching back.
