Chapter 6: The Unknown Number
David picked it up on the third buzz.
"Hello?"
A pause.
Then he put it on speaker without me asking him to.
A man's voice, unhurried and flat: "Mr.
Vance.
My name is not important.
What is important is that your mother has missed her third payment.
We've been patient.
Our patience ends Friday."
David's hand tightened around the phone.
"Who is this?"
"Someone who knows your address.
Your wife's office on Louisiana Street.
Your daughter's school in Katy." A brief pause.
"We're not unreasonable people, Mr.
Vance.
We simply want what we're owed."
"You don't come near my family," David said.
His voice had gone very quiet.
"Then make sure the money is available by Friday.
Your mother knows the account.
Have a good day."
The call ended.
David set the phone down on the table.
His hands were shaking.
"They know Chloe's school," he said.
"Yes."
"Hannah, I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
I had no idea this had gone this far.
I thought it was debt, I thought it was embarrassing debt, I didn't think—"
"We don't have time for that right now." I picked up my own phone.
"I'm calling Patricia.
And then I'm calling the police."
"If we call the police—"
"If we don't call the police, a man who just told us he knows where our daughter goes to school has no reason to stop." I looked at him.
"David.
This stopped being about the house the moment that call came in."
He nodded.
Once.
Slowly.
I called Patricia Osei.
She answered on the second ring.
"Hannah.
I was expecting to hear from you."
"I need to come in today.
It's urgent.
There's been a break-in, there's a creditor threatening my family, and I have video evidence of my mother-in-law arranging the entry."
A brief silence.
"Can you be here at eleven?"
"Yes."
"Bring the video, the contact information of the man who entered your home, and anything you have on the creditors.
Don't delete anything.
Don't confront Evelyn again before we speak."
"Understood."
"And Hannah — are you and your daughter safe right now?"
"My daughter is at my sister's house.
I'm at home."
"Go to your sister's house," Patricia said.
"Don't stay in that home alone today."
I ended the call.
David was already standing, jacket back on, keys in his hand.
"I'm going to my mother's," he said.
"I need to look her in the eye and hear everything.
Every name, every number, every date."
"Don't warn her," I said.
"Don't call ahead."
He stopped at the door.
"I know," he said.
"I know who she is, Hannah.
I've always known who she is.
I just kept thinking she wouldn't go this far." He looked at me.
"I was wrong.
I've been wrong about a lot of things."
He left through the front door.
I stood in the kitchen alone for exactly one minute.
I looked at the back door.
I looked at the counter where the man in the gray blazer had written his name and number.
I took a photo of it with my phone and sent it to Patricia's email.
Then I picked up my bag and drove to my sister's house.
Chloe was at the kitchen table doing a puzzle when I walked in.
She looked up and studied my face the way she had studied Evelyn's face at the mall — reading it carefully, looking for the thing underneath.
"Is it bad?" she asked.
"It's complicated," I said.
"Is it going to be okay?"
I sat down across from her.
I picked up a puzzle piece and turned it over in my hand.
"I'm working on it," I said.
She nodded and went back to the puzzle.
She didn't ask again.
For an eleven-year-old, she had a remarkable ability to understand when an adult was telling her the most honest thing they could.
My phone buzzed.
A text from David.
May you like
*She's not home.
Neighbors say she left with a suitcase about an hour ago.*
