Chapter 1 - The Holiday Trap
The kitchen felt warm, fragrant with baked cinnamon and roasted pecans, but my skin went ice-cold the second my fingers touched the glossy pages of that color-coded binder. My sister Megan took a casual sip of her pinot noir, her gold bracelet catching the soft glow of the pendant lights above the granite island. Beside her, my mother Diane was already humming, checking her reflection in the microwave door and adjusting a silk scarf around her neck.
""You'll see Claire's ballet tights in the upstairs laundry room,"" Megan said smoothly, not even glancing at my face. ""Make sure she practices her turns for at least twenty minutes on Tuesday afternoon. And Noah cannot have dairy past four in the afternoon unless you want him bouncing off the walls until midnight. I left twenty dollars in cash under the fruit bowl for any emergency takeout.""
Twenty dollars. For four days. For two hyperactive children in an upscale Savannah suburb during the most expensive week of the year.
""Megan,"" I said, my voice dangerously level. ""Look at me.""
She sighed, a dramatic flutter of mascara that showed just how inconvenienced she felt by having to maintain eye contact. ""Sarah, please don't start with the drama. You just got off a flight. You're exhausted, we get it. But Mom and Dad haven't had a proper getaway in two years, and Greg and I have been at each other's throats with work. This trip was planned months ago. We didn't tell you earlier because we knew you'd overthink it and make excuses.""
""I took four days of paid leave,"" I said, every word clipped. ""I bought a round-trip ticket from Seattle with less than two weeks' notice. Mom told me on the phone that she was feeling weak, that she wanted both her daughters together under one roof because life was short.""
My mother turned around, holding a platter of warm shortbread cookies with an innocent, wounded expression plastered across her face. ""And you are under the same roof, sweetie! For tonight! We're having a lovely dinner together right now. Then tomorrow, you get quality bonding time with your niece and nephew. You're always sending them books from Amazon and saying how much you miss watching them grow up. We are giving you that gift.""
""A gift?"" I repeated, a bitter laugh tearing out of my chest. ""You called me across the entire country so I could wipe noses, drive carpools, and heat up frozen ziti while you lounge by an oceanfront pool in South Carolina?""
My father cleared his throat from the hallway, lingering near the threshold like a referee afraid of getting punched. ""Sarah, your mother thought it was the best compromise. Hiring a stranger over Christmas week costs double time. And family looks after family.""
""Family looks after family,"" I echoed. My hand drifted to my coat pocket, where my iPhone rested. The screen was dark, but the memory of the text notification I had received as my flight touched down in Atlanta burned behind my eyes.
Chase Sapphire Alert: A pending charge of $8,454.00 at Palmetto Crown Resort & Spa has been approved on card ending in 4108.
Card 4108 was my primary credit card. The only other person authorized on that account was my mother, Diane Collins. I had added her five years ago when my father had undergone prostate surgery, intending it strictly for pharmacy co-pays and sudden medical bills while I was establishing my design career on the West Coast.
I hadn't revoked it because I trusted her. Because every few months, she would charge sixty dollars at the grocery store or thirty dollars at a local clinic, and she would always send a little text saying, Thank you, darling, things are tight this month.
She hadn't sent a text about Palmetto Crown.
""Did you book the Palmetto Crown package, Mom?"" I asked quietly, keeping my gaze locked on her face.
Megan chuckled, cutting in before Mom could answer. ""Oh, Sarah, you should see the suite online. It has a wrap-around balcony facing the sound, a private plunge pool, and daily passes to the vitality spa. Mom managed to snag the holiday VIP package before it sold out last week. Total miracle.""
""A miracle,"" I murmured. ""And how much did that miracle cost?""
My mother waved a dismissive hand, her cheeks coloring slightly beneath her foundation. ""Don't worry about the expenses, Sarah. Your father and I managed to shift some savings around. Now, why don't you take your bags downstairs to the guest room? Noah and Claire are at a playdate down the street with the Millers, but they'll be back by eight, and they'll want to jump all over you.""
May you like
I looked at the three of them—my mother pretending to arrange cookies, my sister sipping wine she hadn't paid for, and my father staring down at his polished leather loafers. They weren't just taking advantage of my kindness; they were actively laughing at me behind my back, convinced I was too cowardly to ever make a scene.
""Sure,"" I said, picking up my suitcase handle. ""Let me go get settled.""
