The Truth Hidden Beneath Our Bed

en

avoided my gaze. "Urgent project." He packed a small bag. He kissed Ca

time?" I asked,

ur." He grabbed his keys. He did

liar feeling of abandonment usually accompanied his departures.

on my phone, usually showed Adrian's location at his work sites or on a direct route home. Today, it showed him heading

knew too well from his burner phone. The $1.2 million house. The house he bought with our m

ne again. I scrolled through

ed, my love.

Angel's been asking for you every

starving. And I can't

them. The irony was a bitter pill. Adrian never cooked for me. He always said he w

d be present. He could be involved. He just chose not to be wi

ubbing his eyes. "Mom, is Dad real

g. "Yes, honey. He's on a work trip

ower lip trembling. "He never comes to my soccer g

become a wound in our son's young life. I tightened my embrace. "

let go. He shuffle

Simon, 29, stay-at-home mother. Her address in Austin, Texas. The $1.2 million house, purchased with a $240,000 down payment, fully financed by Adrian, title in Jasmine's

tions made my hands tremble. Over $1.5 million. All of it, money that should have been ours. Money that should have provided Came

n, are you serious? We have bills to pay. You don't need expensive clothes." Yet he had bought

f. "It's practical, Ellen," he said, handing it to me. On Adrian's burner phone, I saw a message to Jasmine: "Ha

ot about revenge. This was about justice. My son deserved the life Adrian had stolen from us. I deserved to recl