It was subtle, but I caught it. Her smile stayed plastered on, but the pause gave her away.
“Oh,” she said lightly, “updating paperwork. What for?”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just thinking of shifting more of my assets directly into the Valor Home Foundation. Makes things easier for the board.”
Her jaw tightened for half a second before she forced a laugh. “You and your causes, always giving things away.”
“I like helping people,” I replied, locking eyes with her. “Especially veterans’ families. They deserve it.”
She stirred the eggs a little too aggressively, metal scraping hard against the pan.
“Sure,” she said, voice still sugary, “but you also have to think about Ethan. He’s your son. Shouldn’t he come first?”
“He does,” I said firmly. “That’s why I make sure he’s taken care of. He’ll be fine. The foundation needs stability, too.”
The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.
She slid a plate of eggs onto the counter, the fork clattering against the ceramic. “You make it sound like money just falls out of the sky for you. Not everyone’s so lucky.”
I sat down, resting my hand on the table. “Luck has nothing to do with it. Discipline does. Work does. Responsibility does.”
Her eyes flashed for a second. That old jealousy she carried since childhood—the one that never quite left—was bubbling just under the surface. She covered it quickly with another brittle smile, but I’d already seen it.
Ethan came bounding down the stairs, breaking the tension with his usual chatter about school projects.
“Aunt Vanessa, you made breakfast!”
“Of course, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, sliding a plate toward him.
My heart squeezed as I watched him reach for the fork.
I kept my voice light but firm. “Not yet, bud. Let’s wait for the toast.”
I popped slices of bread into the toaster myself, intercepting the moment. Vanessa’s hand twitched almost imperceptibly, as if she’d hoped he’d dive right in.
The toaster popped, and I buttered the bread while Ethan hummed a tune under his breath. The normality of it all was jarring—like a perfectly painted backdrop hiding a collapsing set.
Vanessa excused herself to the bathroom, leaving her purse on the chair.
Collins, who had been monitoring from his car down the street, texted me: Check the bag while she’s out. Be fast.
I moved quickly, heart pounding in my ears. I unzipped her purse just enough to peek inside.
There it was again—a folded packet of fine white powder tucked under her wallet.
My stomach turned.
I zipped it back before she returned, slipping back into my chair like nothing happened.
When she re-entered the room, she picked up her purse casually, but her eyes flicked over to Ethan’s untouched plate.
“Not hungry, honey?” she asked.
Ethan shrugged. “I’ll eat after school.”
I stood. “I’ll drive him today,” I said quickly. “I’ve got time.”
Her smile tightened, but she nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you both later.”
