Chapter 5

Helen barely made it to the gate of the Klein house before a neighbor's voice stopped her cold. Mrs. Bennett from two doors down was watering her roses with a hose she did not need, and she looked up with a wide, hungry smile.

"Helen! I was hoping to catch you. Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Helen snapped, still gripping her car keys so hard they left marks in her palm.

"About Hailey." Mrs. Bennett lowered the hose and stepped closer, her eyes bright. "My niece works at the bank, and she says Hailey has been moving a lot of money today. Big money. She even heard Hailey bought a few properties in her own name. Is she leaving you all?"

"Properties?" Helen's voice cracked. "She doesn't own any properties. Your niece has it wrong."

"Maybe so." Mrs. Bennett shrugged with a sweet, fake sigh. "But she also told everyone at the supermarket that you were freeloaders. I would be furious if my daughter in law said that about me. Such a shame, after all you've done for her."

"She is a liar and an ungrateful girl," Helen hissed, and her whole face trembled with rage. "You tell your niece to mind her own business."

"Of course, dear. Have a lovely evening!"

Helen stormed up the path without looking back. Behind her, she heard Mrs. Bennett's hose start up again, and she was certain the woman was already smiling into her phone.

Her hands were shaking as she fumbled the key into the lock. In her mind, the numbers kept running like a broken machine. Nine thousand dollars. Every month, in cash, right into her hand. Hailey had never missed a single one. The mortgage, the electric bill, the car payment, the shopping, all of it had come out of that one steady river of money. Helen had never once asked where it came from, because she had never needed to.

If that river dries up, she thought, and her chest went tight, we have nothing.

She threw the door open so hard it bounced off the wall.

"Jessie!" she shouted. "Where are you?"

"In here!" Jessie's voice came from the living room, thin and frazzled. "Please, keep it down!"

Helen marched in and found her on the couch with a bowl of rice porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other. Liam sat in his highchair with his lips pressed shut and his little fists clenched, turning his head from side to side each time the spoon came near.

"Come on, sweetheart," Jessie coaxed, her voice strained and shaky. "Just one bite. For Mommy."

"No!" Liam shrieked, swatting at the spoon. Porridge flew across the table and splattered the front of Jessie's blouse. "Want Mama Hailey! Want Mama!"

"I'm your mama!" Jessie snapped, then quickly caught herself and lowered her voice. "I mean, Mama Hailey isn't here right now. Eat your food."

"No! No! No!" The boy kicked the tray, and the bowl tipped and rolled off the edge onto the floor with a crash.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Jessie threw the spoon down and pressed her palms against her eyes. "He has been like this all afternoon, Helen. He won't eat, he won't nap, and he won't stop crying. I don't know what to do with him."

"Do you think I care about the porridge right now?" Helen shouted, dropping her purse on the table. Her voice rose and rose with every word. "Do you know what people are saying about us? The whole street knows. Everyone at the supermarket knows. Hailey stood in the entrance and called us freeloaders in front of half the neighborhood!"

Jessie's hands slid slowly from her face. "She did what?"

"She did! And she closed her card, so I stood at that register like a fool while a whole line of people watched me." Helen's chin quivered, and her eyes filled with furious tears. "Patricia from the second floor laughed at me. Me!"

"That's terrible," Jessie whispered, though she looked more frightened than sympathetic. "But maybe she was just angry this morning. Maybe she'll calm down."

"Calm down?" Helen laughed sharply, without any humor. "Jessie, think! Do you know what that woman did for us? Nine thousand dollars a month. Nine thousand! Who is going to pay for the house? Who is going to buy Liam's milk and clothes? You? Do you have a job I don't know about?"

Jessie flinched and looked away. "I'm his mother. I take care of him."

"You lie on the couch," Helen shot back, "and Hailey took care of him after work, every single night, while you went out with your friends."

"That's not fair!" Jessie's lower lip trembled. "I've done my share."

"Your share is nothing," Helen snapped. She sank into the armchair and pressed a hand to her forehead, breathing hard. "We cannot let her go. We just can't."

Liam had started to cry again, a thin, exhausted wail that filled the room. Neither of them moved to pick him up. Helen stared at the ceiling, and her lips moved silently as she counted everything they were about to lose.

The front door finally opened just after nine that night, much later than usual. Derek walked in with his tie loose and his jacket over his arm. His shoulders sagged, and his eyes were red from a long, frustrating day at the office. He dropped his keys on the hall table and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm home," he called, and no one answered.

He found them in the living room, exactly as he expected. Helen sat stiff and pale in the armchair, and Jessie was curled at the end of the couch with Liam asleep on her lap. He glanced at the dirty floor, the spilled porridge, and the toys everywhere, and frowned.

"What happened in here?"

"What happened?" Helen sat up, her voice low and shaking. "Derek, your wife is what happened."

"Mom, not tonight." He tossed his jacket on a chair and pulled out his phone. "I'm exhausted. Let me check the account first. Today is the day her salary comes in."

Every month, without fail, the transfer landed in their joint account on the twenty fourth, and every month he felt the same small, comfortable satisfaction watching the number rise. He thumbed open the banking app, expecting to see it already sitting there, waiting for him.

The screen loaded.

Derek stopped breathing.

The balance read zero. Not low, not almost empty. Zero. He tapped the screen again, refreshed the page, and closed the app and opened it a second time. The same white numbers stared back at him, flat and cold.

"That's not right," he muttered, and his face began to lose its color. "There must be a mistake."

"What is it?" Jessie asked, sitting up carefully so she would not wake Liam. "Derek, what's wrong?"

"The account is empty." His voice came out thin and hollow. "Everything is gone. She emptied it."

"What?" Helen jumped to her feet. "That's impossible! That's our money!"

"It's her money," Derek muttered, shaking his head slowly, and his hand began to tremble around the phone. "I just never thought she would touch it."

His thumb hovered for a moment, and then he jabbed at her name and put the phone on speaker. It rang once, twice, three times. Helen and Jessie leaned in close, barely breathing.

The line clicked.

"Hello, Derek," Hailey answered, and her voice was smooth and light, as if she had been waiting for him.

Derek swallowed hard and forced his tone into something soft and warm. "Hailey, listen. I know you're upset, and I understand. But things are a little tight this month. Why don't you just transfer the usual amount for now, and we can talk about everything else later..."

"There is no usual amount anymore, Derek."

Her voice was calm and ice cold, and it froze him mid breath. Helen and Jessie exchanged a look of rising panic.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, and his voice cracked slightly.

"I mean exactly what I said. There is no joint account. There is no salary coming to you. And there will never be another cent from me, not for you, not for your mother, and not for your widow sister in law who sleeps in my robe."

"She's not my..." Jessie started, then clapped a hand over her mouth when Derek shot her a warning look.

"Hailey, please," Derek said, and now his voice was shaking openly. "You can't just cut us off like this. The mortgage is due at the end of the week. Liam needs things. He's been crying all day for you. How are we supposed to manage the household..."

He stopped.

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Derek Klein heard himself say it out loud. Without Hailey, they were penniless. Destitute. Exactly as she had been the day they left her to die in the flood.