Chapter 8: The Sister Who Knew Everything
Tara stared at the bank statement as though the numbers might disappear if she refused to acknowledge them.
Dad laid his phone beside the paper.
"The transfer came in at eight forty-six," he said.
"Fifty dollars from Claire. The same amount you claimed Ethan stole.""
Tara shook her head.
"That was a repayment.""
"For what?""
"Something I lent her.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because it's my money.""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"It came from our joint account.""
"I was going to replace it.""
"You keep saying that.""
"Because it's true!""
Dad pointed toward the statement.
"How much have you sent her?""
Tara pressed her lips together.
"About two thousand dollars.""
"From our account?""
"Some of it.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means I didn't send all of it from our account!""
Dad took a slow breath.
"Then where did the rest come from?""
"My paycheck.""
I watched her carefully.
For the first time, I noticed that her fear seemed to be directed less toward the money itself and more toward the possibility of someone discovering why she'd sent it.
Dad seemed to notice, too.
"Why does Claire need money from you?""
Tara shook her head.
"That's between us.""
"Not when you use our money to pay her bills.""
"She's my sister!""
"And I'm your husband. Ethan is my son. We live in the same house, and you've been telling us for months that we need to cut back on spending.""
Tara lowered her eyes.
"I was trying to help her.""
"With money we didn't have?""
"I thought I could manage it.""
Dad picked up the statement again.
"Then explain the transfer this morning.""
Tara stared at the table.
"Claire owed me fifty dollars.""
"For what?""
"A personal expense.""
"Which was?""
She didn't answer.
Dad pushed the paper toward her.
"Call her.""
Tara looked up.
"What?""
"Call Claire. Put her on speaker. Let's settle this.""
"That's unnecessary.""
"Then it should be easy.""
Tara's eyes filled again.
"Daniel, please. I don't want my sister dragged into this.""
"She is already in it. Her name is on the bank statement.""
Tara shook her head.
"You don't understand our relationship.""
"Then help me understand it.""
She looked at me, apparently hoping I would intervene.
I remained silent.
Finally, Tara took out her phone and called her sister.
Claire answered almost immediately.
"Hey," she said brightly.
"Did you get it?""
Tara closed her eyes.
"Claire, I'm with Daniel.""
A pause.
"Oh.""
Dad leaned toward the phone.
"Hello, Claire. We need to talk about a fifty-dollar transfer you sent Tara this morning.""
Another pause.
"What's there to talk about?"" Claire asked.
"I paid her back.""
"For what?""
Tara shook her head vigorously, trying to signal her sister not to continue.
Claire apparently couldn't see her.
"For the money she gave me.""
"How much money did she give you?""
"That isn't really your business.""
Dad's voice remained calm.
"It became my business when the money came out of our joint account.""
Silence.
Then Claire said, "Tara, you told me Daniel wouldn't find out.""
My stepmother's face went white.
Dad didn't move.
"What exactly did Tara tell you?""
"Claire," Tara whispered, "stop talking.""
But Claire was already unraveling.
"She said she could move the money around for a while, and she'd replace it before you checked the statements. She said you hardly ever looked at the account.""
Dad's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
"How much did she give you?""
Claire sighed.
"Nearly two thousand dollars.""
"Did you know it came from our joint account?""
"I assumed it was her money.""
Tara shook her head furiously.
"That's enough!""
Claire fell silent.
Dad asked another question.
"Why did you send fifty dollars this morning?""
"Because Tara asked me to.""
"What did she say?""
"She said she needed a small amount back immediately. She told me it was important that she have cash in her purse before she got home.""
My heart began pounding.
Dad looked directly at Tara.
"Why?""
Claire's voice became uncertain.
"I don't know. She said she had a situation to handle.""
"What situation?""
"I don't know!""
Dad closed his eyes briefly.
"Claire, did Tara tell you she was going to accuse Ethan of stealing the money?""
"No!""
Tara suddenly stood.
"This is absurd. I'm ending this call.""
Dad raised his voice.
"Sit down.""
She froze.
He had never spoken to her like that before.
Not even when they argued about money.
Tara slowly lowered herself into the chair.
Claire spoke again.
"Wait. What's happened?""
Dad answered without taking his eyes off Tara.
"Ethan was accused of stealing fifty dollars this morning. Tara searched his room and demanded that I kick him out. We've since discovered that Tara received fifty dollars from a neighbor, misplaced an envelope, and was also sent fifty dollars by you.""
Claire went silent.
Then she whispered, "Oh, my God.""
Tara grabbed the phone.
"Claire, don't you dare—"
"Did you really accuse Ethan?""
Tara's expression hardened.
"I was upset.""
"You told me last month that you couldn't stand having him around!""
Dad looked at her sharply.
I felt as though the air had been pulled from my lungs.
Claire continued, her voice rising.
"You said once he turned eighteen, you'd convince Daniel to help him move out. You said it would be easier to manage the house without him.""
Tara's hand trembled around the phone.
"That's not what I said.""
"Yes, it is!""
"You're twisting my words!""
Claire let out a disbelieving laugh.
"Tara, I have the messages.""
Dad went completely still.
"What messages?""
"The texts she sent me.""
Tara's face lost all color.
Claire continued, "She complained about Ethan all the time. She said Daniel would always choose his son over her, and she wanted to make sure that didn't happen.""
I felt my stomach twist.
Dad looked at Tara.
"Is that true?""
She shook her head.
"She's angry because I won't lend her more money.""
Claire snapped, "I'm angry because you keep dragging me into your lies!""
Dad held out his hand.
"Claire, can you send me those messages?""
"Yes.""
Tara lunged toward the phone.
"Don't!""
Dad caught her wrist.
"That's enough.""
She pulled away.
For a moment, the two of them stared at each other.
Then she stepped back, breathing hard.
"I can't believe this," she whispered.
"My own husband is treating me like an enemy.""
Dad's voice was exhausted.
"You've spent the morning treating your stepson like one.""
The phone chimed.
A message appeared on Dad's screen.
Then another.
And another.
He opened the first.
It was a screenshot of a conversation between Tara and Claire, dated three weeks earlier.
Tara had written:
*I need Daniel to stop treating Ethan like he's the center of the universe. Once the boy is out of the house, things will finally be easier.*
Claire had responded:
*He's seventeen, Tara. Where is he supposed to go?*
Tara's reply was even worse.
*That's Daniel's problem. If Ethan does something bad enough, Daniel will have to choose between us.*
Dad stopped scrolling.
He read the message again.
Then he placed the phone on the table and looked at his wife.
"Was that why you accused him this morning?""
Tara's eyes filled with tears.
"No.""
Dad waited.
She shook her head.
"I swear, Daniel, I didn't plan for this to happen.""
"That isn't what I asked.""
Tara looked toward the stairs.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I needed you to see what it would be like if Ethan wasn't here.""
Dad stared at her.
I couldn't move.
She had not merely suspected me.
She had used the missing money as an opportunity to push me out of my own home.
And now, with the messages on the table, there was nowhere left for her to hide.
Dad slowly stood.
"Tara, I need you to pack a bag.""
She looked up in disbelief.
"What?""
"I think you should stay somewhere else tonight.""
Her mouth fell open.
"You're throwing me out?""
"No," he said.
"I'm asking for space to decide whether I can trust you again.""
She turned toward me, and for the first time that day, I saw something that looked like genuine panic.
"Ethan," she whispered.
"Tell him not to do this.""
I looked at the woman who had emptied my drawers, lifted my mattress, and demanded that my father abandon me.
Then I answered.
"You made your choice this morning, Tara.""
May you like
She stared at me.
"And now Dad has to make his.""
