Chapter 3: The Hidden Account
I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling.
Not sleeping.
Not moving.
Just replaying every conversation I had ignored.
Every strange phone call.
Every locked screen.
Every time Nia said, "It's nothing.""
At 6:30 in the morning, I walked into the office.
Nia was already there.
She froze when she saw my face.
"What's wrong?""
I placed the document on the desk.
Her expression changed instantly.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
"What is this?""
She picked it up.
"Where did you get this?""
"Answer the question.""
She looked away.
"Marcus, this is private.""
I laughed.
"Private?""
"You went through my things?""
"My mother found it.""
That made her pause.
Then she whispered:
"Your mother shouldn't be looking through my stuff.""
I felt my anger rise.
"My mother was cleaning the room you wanted to take from her.""
Nia said nothing.
I pointed at the paper.
"Why do you have this account?""
"It's just savings.""
"Savings from where?""
She crossed her arms.
"Why are you interrogating me?""
"Because I found out my wife has an account with money she never mentioned.""
Her face hardened.
"You have money I don't control.""
"Because we talked about it.""
"Not everything has to be shared.""
Those words hurt.
Not because of the account.
Because of what they revealed.
We weren't partners.
Not anymore.
That evening, Diane came over.
She walked in like she owned the place.
"Marcus, we need to clear this up.""
I looked at her.
"Did you know?""
She stopped.
"Know what?""
"The account.""
Nia looked at her mother.
That was all the answer I needed.
Diane sat down.
"Marcus, your wife is smart. She protects herself.""
"From me?""
"No.""
She hesitated.
"From uncertainty.""
I stared at her.
"You mean from our marriage.""
Nia stepped in.
"Enough.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"Not enough.""
I walked upstairs.
I needed space.
But when I reached the hallway, I noticed something.
My mother's bedroom door was open.
Inside, her suitcase was gone.
My heart stopped.
"Mom?""
No answer.
I ran downstairs.
"Nia!""
She looked up.
"What?""
"Where is my mother?""
Her face changed.
"I don't know.""
"You don't know?""
"Marcus, calm down.""
"Where is she?""
I searched the kitchen.
The living room.
The backyard.
Then I saw a note on the counter.
My hands shook as I picked it up.
It was written in my mother's handwriting.
Marcus,
I don't want you fighting anymore.
I love you.
Please forgive me.
I think maybe leaving is easier.
I couldn't finish reading.
Because beneath her words was something else.
A second sentence.
Something she had added after writing the first.
And it wasn't meant for me.
It was meant for Nia.
It said:
"Ask your wife why she thinks I know about the hospital.""
I looked up slowly.
May you like
"What hospital?""
Nia went completely pale.
