Chapter 1
At 8:03, my husband's father, Frank Chambers, pushed open my bedroom door.
He didn't even bother to knock.
"Claire, why are you still in bed? Where's breakfast?" he called out.
I opened my eyes and saw him at the doorway, wearing a white tank top. He was sixty-two, a retired factory worker, gripping a bank card, the same one he'd taken from Eric last night.
"Frank, it's Saturday," I said.
"Saturday doesn't mean we skip breakfast as a family, does it?" he shot back.
I sat up and glanced at my phone. Three unread messages, all from work groups.
I made 10,300 dollars a month.
My husband, Eric Chambers, made 2,700 dollars a month.
Last night, Frank said, "Eric, hand over your salary card. I'll keep it safe for you two, young folks just don't know how to handle money."
Eric glanced at me and just handed over the card, without saying a word.
No discussion, no hesitation, not even a single word to me.
I was in the kitchen, washing dishes.
Eric's mother, Diane, leaned in and whispered, "Frank just wants what's best for you two. Don't read too much into it."
I didn't say a word.
This morning, I decided to stay silent, just like before.
"Frank, there are eggs and bread in the fridge. You can heat them up," I said.
Frank's face darkened.
"What's that supposed to mean? You've been married into the Chambers family for three years, when have you ever not cooked breakfast?" he snapped.
I tossed aside the covers, got out of bed, and took a sip of water from the glass on my vanity.
"I used to handle Eric's paycheck and I did all the housework, and that was the arrangement. Now that you're holding the salary card, you can sort out the housework too," I said.
"You, " Frank started, but I cut him off.
"I'm off to work," I said.
I grabbed my bag, slipped on my heels, and as I walked through the living room, I saw Eric sitting on the couch, glued to his phone.
He heard everything.
He didn't look up once.
*****
At the café downstairs from my office, I ordered an Americano.
My phone buzzed, and it was a message from Eric.
Eric: [Why did you talk to my dad like that? He's so mad his blood pressure's through the roof.]
I typed back: [Did you even ask me before handing over your salary card?]
Eric didn't reply for three minutes.
Eric finally texted: [He's my dad. What else could I do?]
I replied: [And I'm your wife. So what are you going to do about it?]
He went quiet again.
Then he sent a voice message, but I didn't even bother to open it.
My phone rang again, and it was Diane.
I hit decline.
I clocked in and went upstairs. At nine, I was at my desk starting up my computer when Ava Young came over and set a coffee down.
"Claire, Mr. Warren said there's a meeting at ten about the new project," she said.
"Got it," I replied.
At ten, we were in the conference room.
David Warren sat at the head of the table, flipping through some files. "This collaboration with Summit Dynamics has a budget of 6 million dollars, and they specifically requested Claire to lead the team."
I nodded.
"The timeline is tight, and we need the proposal in two months. If you deliver, there's a year-end bonus, estimated between 60 thousand dollars and 200 thousand dollars," David added.
The people around me started looking at me differently.
I kept my cool.
After the meeting, David called me over.
"Claire, how are you holding up lately?" he asked.
"I'm doing fine," I replied.
"Richard Grant called me last week, and he spent forty minutes just raving about your last proposal," David said.
I smiled, "I'll do my best."
As soon as I stepped out of the conference room, my phone rang again.
It was Diane again, her third call.
I picked up.
"Claire, Frank's just holding onto the card for you guys. Why are you so upset? Are you coming home for lunch?" she asked.
"Diane, I'm working through lunch. I won't be back," I replied.
"What about dinner then?" she pressed.
"I'm working overtime tonight too," I replied.
There was a pause on the other end.
"What's gotten into you, Claire? You're like a whole new person," she said.