Chapter 3 - The Broken Web of Lies
Jessica’s face transformed from indignant sneer to pure, unadulterated panic.
She rushed to the window, peering out at the white luxury SUV parked crookedly under the pine trees. It was her prize possession. Every day for the past six months, she had posted stories of herself behind that leather-wrapped steering wheel, holding iced coffees against the logo, pretending to her fifty thousand bought followers that she was an independent, six-figure entrepreneur.
"You can't do that!" Jessica screamed, spinning back toward the room. Her voice cracked, turning into a shrill, hysterical screech. "That’s my car! My whole life is in that car! My ring lights, my designer bags, my contracts!"
"The LLC owns the title, Jessica," Dad said, his arms crossed over his chest. "I made the down payment, and Susan secretly made the monthly payments using the emergency repair fund for my construction company. The company is declaring bankruptcy next week because of your mother’s creative bookkeeping. Every asset tied to the business is being liquidated to pay off the subcontractors I owe."
Uncle Mark rose awkwardly from the sofa, holding his hands up like a man trying to back out of a bank robbery. "Whoa, Dave. Listen, man, let’s all take a breath. It’s Jacob’s birthday. We don't need to tear the whole family apart over some broken toys and paperwork."
Dad turned his gaze onto his brother. The look was so searing that Uncle Mark actually took a half-step back.
"Shut up, Mark," Dad said.
Mark blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You owe me fourteen thousand dollars from the fishing boat you wrecked three summers ago," Dad said without blinking. "You’ve sat on that couch every weekend, drinking my beer, eating my steak, laughing at Jessica’s cruelty, and egging her on because you knew as long as Susan was running the finances, I wouldn't come collecting. You and Tyler can pack your bags and leave right now, too. And if I ever see Tyler laughing at Jacob again, I’ll take his dirt bike to settle the debt."
Tyler didn't need to be told twice. The nineteen-year-old scrambled off the sofa, grabbed his hoodie from the coat rack, and bolted out the screen door without looking back. Mark stood there for three seconds, his jaw working silently, before muttering a curse and stalking out into the evening sun, slamming the door behind him.
Now, there were only five of us left in the cabin.
Me, Jacob, Dad, Mom, and Jessica.
Susan was shaking violently. Her veneer of country-club elegance had completely disintegrated. Her hair was coming undone, and mascara smudged beneath her eyes as she realized the walls were finally closing in.
"Sarah," Susan cried, turning toward me and dropping to her knees by my chair. She grabbed my wrists, her manicured nails digging into my skin. "Sarah, you have to talk to your father! He’s having a nervous breakdown! Tell him to stop! Think of what this will do to the family! Think of what people at church will say!"
I looked down at my mother.
For seven years, I had believed I was the failure of the family. I was the girl who got pregnant at twenty-one by a boy who ran off to California the moment the test turned positive. I was the daughter who couldn't afford a home, who came back to her parents’ town with a broken spirit and a baby in her arms. Every time Susan gave me an old winter coat she didn't want anymore, I had thanked her with tears in my eyes. Every time she watched Jacob for an hour so I could pick up a double shift, I had felt indebted to her for weeks.
And the entire time, she had been robbing my child to fund Jessica’s vanity.
I pulled my hands out of her grip.
"Don't touch me," I said.
Susan froze, her mouth hanging open. "Sarah... I did everything for you girls! I tried to balance everything! Jessica has a sensitive spirit, she couldn't handle the stress of normal jobs! You were always strong, Sarah! You were resilient!"
"I wasn't resilient, Mom," I said, my voice shaking with a rage so cold it tasted like iron. "I was drowning. And you held my head underwater so Jessica could take swimming lessons."
Jacob leaned his head against my shoulder. I felt his tiny hand reach into my pocket, his fingers wrapping around my car keys. He wanted to leave. He wanted the shouting to stop.
"Mom," Jessica pleaded, her arrogance finally melting into desperate terror as she realized her father wasn't backing down. "Mom, do something! Call Aunt Linda! Call Grandpa’s lawyer! He can't leave us stranded here! It’s twelve miles to the highway!"
"Call whoever you want," Dad said, pulling his phone from his belt. "In fact, let’s save you the trouble. I already called the sheriff’s department on my way up from town. Deputy Miller should be pulling into the driveway in about five minutes."
Jessica’s eyes went wild. "The police?! For what?!"
"For the nine thousand dollars you charged on my Home Depot commercial card last month," Dad said. "The one you used to buy high-end patio furniture and commercial power tools, which you then turned around and sold on Facebook Marketplace for cash."
Jessica gasped, stumbling back until her shoulders hit the wall. "How... how did you..."
"You forgot that the receipts get emailed to my office, Jessica," Dad said. "You thought Susan could intercept the paper statements in the physical mailbox before I saw them. But the contractor who bought the table saw called me yesterday to ask about the warranty. He recognized my business logo on the invoice."
A sudden sound cut through the cabin.
A high-pitched, cheerful notification chime.
We all looked toward the kitchen island. Jessica’s phone was propped up on a small desktop tripod, sitting right next to the cutting board where Susan had been slicing birthday lemons.
The screen was glowing brightly.
Jessica had not just been recording earlier. When she walked through the front door, shouting *“Happy birthday to my favorite little man,”* she had gone live on her Instagram account.
She had set the phone on the counter to capture her "wholesome, country family weekend."
May you like
And the stream had never been turned off.
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