Chapter 1: The Secret Behind Saturday
“Mom, why is Dad's picture in your suitcase?””
Jordan's question hung in the living room.
Vanessa stood frozen beside the burgundy suitcase, one hand gripping its handle. Marcus watched his eleven-year-old son look from the photograph to his mother's face, desperately searching for an explanation that would make sense.
Then Jordan asked the question that changed everything.
“Is it because of Saturday?””
Marcus turned toward him.
“What happened Saturday, buddy?””
Jordan glanced at Vanessa.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
“Jordan,” she said, forcing a smile, “go upstairs and get your homework.””
“But—”
“Now.””
The boy didn't move.
Marcus crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to Jordan's eye level.
“It's okay. You can tell me.””
Jordan swallowed.
“Mom said I was going to meet my real dad.””
The room seemed to lose its oxygen.
Marcus slowly straightened.
“Your real dad?””
Jordan nodded.
“He's coming to get me Saturday. Mom said we're going to stay with him for a while.””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Marcus looked at her.
“A while?””
“Marcus, don't.””
“How long is a while?””
“It's complicated.””
“Then explain it.””
Jordan looked between them.
“Mom said I might have to change schools.””
Marcus felt something cold settle in his stomach.
“Change schools?””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Jordan, sweetheart, go upstairs. Your mother and I need to talk.””
“No!”” Jordan snapped.
His voice cracked.
“You always tell me to go upstairs when you're hiding something!””
Vanessa stared at him.
Marcus had never heard his son speak to her that way.
Jordan's eyes filled.
“You said Dad knew. You said he was okay with it.””
Marcus looked down at the boy.
“Who told you I was okay with it?””
Jordan pointed at Vanessa.
“She did.””
Marcus slowly turned back toward his wife.
“You told him I agreed?””
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
“I was trying to make this easier.””
“For whom?””
“For everyone!””
Marcus gave a bitter laugh.
“You told an eleven-year-old boy that the man who raised him had agreed to disappear?””
“Stop making it sound so terrible.””
“Then tell me what Saturday is.””
Vanessa picked up her phone.
“It's a meeting with Toulouse. He's arranged everything.””
“Everything?””
“He has a house. A room for Jordan. A school nearby. He wants to spend time with his son.””
Marcus stared at her.
“What does that have to do with changing schools?””
“His job is in another state.””
“Another state?””
“North Carolina.””
Marcus looked at Jordan.
The boy's lower lip trembled.
“Dad, I don't want to move.””
That sentence nearly brought Marcus to his knees.
He reached for Jordan's shoulder.
“You don't have to decide anything tonight.””
Vanessa immediately intervened.
“Don't promise him things you can't control.””
Marcus looked at her.
“I'm not promising him anything. I'm telling him he has a voice.””
“He's eleven!””
“Exactly. He's not luggage.””
Jordan wiped his cheek with his sweatshirt sleeve.
“Mom said I would have my own room.””
Marcus nodded.
“That's nice, buddy.””
“And Dad said he'd teach me to play baseball.””
Marcus's hand stopped moving.
“Did he?””
Jordan nodded.
“He said he used to play in college. He said he could help me become really good.””
Marcus glanced at the photograph.
He remembered teaching Jordan to hold a bat. He remembered the boy swinging so hard that he fell backward into the grass. He remembered the countless evenings they had spent in the backyard, chasing baseballs into the neighbor's bushes.
“What did you tell him?”” Marcus asked.
Jordan looked down.
“I told him I already have someone who teaches me.””
A painful silence followed.
Vanessa's face tightened.
“Jordan, that's enough.””
The boy finally looked at Marcus.
“Dad, are you mad at me?””
Marcus immediately pulled him into a hug.
“Never. Do you hear me? Never.””
Jordan buried his face against Marcus's shoulder.
“I don't want you to stop being my dad.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
“That's not your decision to worry about.””
Vanessa turned away.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Marcus felt a small hand slide into his.
Jordan whispered something that made him pull back.
“Dad?””
“Yeah, buddy?””
“There's something else.””
Marcus looked at him.
“What is it?””
Jordan glanced toward Vanessa again.
“She said if I don't go with my real dad, he'll be angry. And she said we might lose our house.””
Marcus went completely still.
“Our house?””
Jordan nodded.
“She said he was paying for everything now.””
Marcus slowly released his son's hand.
He looked at Vanessa.
“Is that true?””
She didn't answer.
“Vanessa, is Toulouse paying our mortgage?””
“It's none of your business.””
Marcus stared at her.
“It's my house too.””
“Not anymore, apparently.””
The words came out before she could stop them.
Jordan looked up.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
Marcus noticed the suitcase again. Then the photograph. Then the phone she had been protecting throughout the argument.
He reached for his own phone.
“What are you doing?”” Vanessa demanded.
“Calling my attorney.””
Her eyes widened.
“Don't you dare.””
“Why? Are you worried someone might ask why you've arranged to move an eleven-year-old child across state lines without discussing it with the man who has raised him?””
“You're not his legal father!””
“Then why have you spent eight years telling everyone I was?””
Vanessa stepped toward him.
“Marcus, listen to me. Toulouse has money. He can give Jordan opportunities you can't.””
Marcus stared at her.
“I've never been rich. You knew that when you married me.””
“He can pay for private school.””
“I paid for his school.””
“He can take him on vacations.””
“I took him camping last summer.””
“He can give him a real future!””
Marcus's voice dropped.
“Don't you ever use my son's future to justify what you're doing.””
Jordan flinched at the raised voices.
Marcus immediately lowered his tone.
“Buddy, go get your favorite blanket. We can talk about everything after dinner.””
Jordan hesitated.
“Promise you'll be here?””
“I promise.””
The boy ran upstairs.
Vanessa waited until his footsteps disappeared.
Then she walked toward Marcus and lowered her voice.
“You're making a mistake.””
“I'm asking questions.””
“You don't understand what Toulouse wants.””
“Then tell me.””
She looked toward the stairs.
“He wants to be a father.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“And what does he want from you?””
Vanessa's face changed.
Just for a second.
But Marcus saw it.
“What does that mean?”” he asked.
“Nothing.””
“Vanessa.””
She picked up the suitcase.
“I'll be staying with my sister tonight.””
“Fine.””
“Jordan is coming with me.””
“No.””
Her eyebrows lifted.
“You can't stop me.””
“I can certainly refuse to hand him over without knowing what's happening.””
She stared at him with an expression he had never seen before.
Then she smiled.
It wasn't a loving smile.
It was the smile of someone who believed she had already won.
“You really think this is about you and me?””
Before Marcus could answer, her phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen.
A message appeared.
*TOULOUSE: Did you tell him about the agreement? Don't forget what we discussed.*
Marcus saw it.
Vanessa quickly turned the screen away.
But the damage was done.
“Agreement?”” he asked.
“It's private.””
“What agreement?””
She grabbed her suitcase.
“Ask Toulouse on Saturday.””
Then she walked out.
Marcus stood in the doorway, listening to the suitcase wheels rattle down the front steps.
Upstairs, Jordan called his name.
“Dad?””
Marcus looked toward the staircase.
“I'm here, buddy.””
But as he went upstairs, his phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent him a photograph.
It showed Vanessa sitting beside Toulouse in an expensive restaurant.
On the table between them was a folder.
The date on the folder was three months earlier.
May you like
And beneath their signatures was a title that made Marcus's blood run cold.
*PERMANENT CUSTODY AND RELOCATION AGREEMENT.*
