Chapter 1 - THE FAREWELL THEY HAD ALREADY PLANNED
“Four years?” Eleanor said.
Her fork slipped from her fingers and struck the dinner plate.
David reached across the table and covered her hand, wearing the patient smile he used whenever he had already made a decision and wanted her to mistake it for reassurance.
“The Tokyo expansion is the biggest assignment Northbridge has offered me,” he said. “Four years sounds long, but we’ll visit. You’ll come once the new design season slows down.”
Eleanor stared at her husband. “You accepted without talking to me?”
At the other end of the table, Teresa lifted her wineglass.
“Our son is finally being recognized,” she said. “Don’t turn his success into another discussion about your feelings.”
Frank shifted beside her, eyes fixed on his untouched meat loaf.
David continued as if the interruption had helped him.
“Mom and Dad are moving in here while I’m gone. Their condo closes Friday. Dad needs help with his medication, and Mom can’t manage the stairs alone.”
Eleanor looked from David to his parents.
They were seated inside her Hamilton Heights brownstone, beneath the pendant lights she had installed after buying the house five years before the marriage. No one had asked whether she would become a full-time caregiver while running her interior-design studio.
Teresa set down her glass.
“You won’t be lonely, and you’ll finally have a chance to act like part of this family.”
Frank whispered, “Teresa.”
“What? We’re all making sacrifices.”
Eleanor felt the shape of the trap before she understood its purpose. David would receive the prestige. Teresa would receive a home. Frank would receive care.
Eleanor would receive responsibility.
“When do you leave?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning.”
The answer hurt more than the announcement.
At JFK, David hugged her tightly beside the security entrance. He promised daily video calls, kissed her forehead, and walked away with a single carry-on.
Eleanor remained until he disappeared past the checkpoint.
Forty minutes later, while driving along the Van Wyck Expressway, her phone vibrated.
A charge for fifteen thousand dollars had hit one of the six premium cards attached to her private banking account.
Merchant: Zao Zero Diamond Boutique, Fifth Avenue.
David was supposed to be boarding a flight across the Pacific.
Eleanor pulled onto the shoulder and called the bank.
“I’m the primary account holder,” she said. “Freeze every card connected to my profile.”
The representative confirmed the block.
Before Eleanor could put the car back in gear, another alert appeared.
A declined charge had been attempted at the Kiyomi Hotel in Midtown Manhattan.
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David had passed through airport security.
But he had never left New York.
