Chapter 1 - The Piggy BankTessa heard the front door hit the wall before she saw her father.
She was sitting on the cream-colored rug in the enormous living room, holding a ceramic piggy bank against her chest.
It was pale blue, covered with small white stars.
She had owned it for eleven months.
Birthday money.
Allowance.
Five-dollar bills from helping Brooke organize the pantry.
Two twenties her grandmother had mailed her at Christmas.
Coins collected from drawers and couch cushions after asking permission.
Tessa had counted it the night before.
Eight hundred and forty-three dollars.
Almost enough for the summer science program she had been talking about for months.
Then Nolan entered.
His steps were slightly uneven.
Not enough to make him fall.
Enough for Tessa to notice.
His eyes were heavy.
His shirt was untucked.
He smelled wrong.
Tessa had learned that smell before she learned what it meant.
“Dad?”
Nolan looked toward her.
Then toward the piggy bank.
His expression changed.
“What’s that?”
“My savings.”
Nolan walked closer.
Tessa instinctively hugged it tighter.
“How much?”
She hesitated.
“Why?”
“Tessa.”
His voice hardened.
“How much is in it?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
That was a lie.
Nolan held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
Tessa’s stomach tightened.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What did you say?”
“It’s mine.”
Nolan stepped forward and grabbed it.
Tessa held on for one frightened second.
“Dad, don’t! That’s my money! I’ve been saving it!”
He pulled harder.
The piggy bank came free.
Tessa stumbled forward.
“Dad!”
Nolan looked down at it.
Then raised it.
Tessa’s eyes widened.
“No!”
The ceramic pig shattered against the stone floor.
The sound cracked through the mansion.
Blue fragments scattered.
Bills and coins spread beneath the coffee table.
Tessa froze.
Then her face collapsed.
“That’s my money!”
She dropped to her knees.
“I saved it for a whole year!”
She started gathering bills with shaking hands.
Nolan crouched.
For half a second, Tessa thought he was going to help.
Instead, he picked up a twenty.
Then another.
Then a fifty.
Tessa stared at him.
“Dad…”
“Your money is my money.”
Tessa stopped moving.
Nolan gathered a stack of bills.
“I put a roof over your head.”
He looked directly at his nine-year-old daughter.
“Where do you think that money came from?”
Tessa’s lips trembled.
“You gave it to me.”
“What?”
“My allowance.”
Nolan gave a humorless laugh.
“Exactly.”
Footsteps came from the hallway.
Brooke entered carrying a folder.
She stopped.
Her eyes went first to Tessa.
Her daughter was on her knees crying.
Then to the shattered blue ceramic.
Then to the bills in Nolan’s hand.
Then to Nolan himself.
Brooke’s expression changed so quickly it frightened Tessa.
“Nolan.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
Brooke stared at the money.
“You smashed her piggy bank?”
“She’s a child.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Nolan stood.
“She doesn’t need eight hundred dollars.”
Brooke crossed the room.
“You’re drunk.”
“Don’t start.”
Brooke smelled his breath.
Her face went pale.
Then something in her broke.
She slapped him.
The sound was sharp.
Nolan’s head turned.
He froze.
Brooke’s voice shook with fury.
“You promised me you were done drinking and using fentanyl!”
Nolan slowly turned back.
“You’ve made that promise over and over again!”
His shock became rage.
Before Brooke could move, Nolan slapped her back.
Tessa screamed.
“Mom!”
Brooke’s head turned from the impact.
Then everything stopped.
Nolan breathed heavily.
“I run this house!”
Brooke did not answer.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do!”
Brooke remained still.
Tessa had seen her mother cry before.
She had seen her furious.
She had never seen this expression.
Brooke slowly turned her face back toward Nolan.
The anger vanished.
What replaced it was colder.
She walked to the chair beside the coffee table.
Her handbag sat there.
Nolan frowned.
“What are you doing?”
Brooke opened the bag.
Pulled out a thick envelope.
Then placed a stack of papers on the coffee table.
Hard.
Nolan looked down.
His face changed.
The heading was unmistakable.
PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
Nolan stared at it.
Then at Brooke.
She spoke quietly.
“Fine.”
A beat.
“Then sign them.”
For the first time that evening, Nolan looked sober.
“You already had these?”
Brooke did not answer.
Tessa sat among the broken pieces of her piggy bank, tears running down her face.
Nolan stared at the papers.
Then at the folder Brooke had carried into the room.
He noticed something sticking out of it.
A bank statement.
His anger disappeared.
“Brooke.”
She watched him.
“What?”
His voice suddenly lowered.
May you like
“Where did you get that statement?”
And Brooke realized the divorce papers were not the thing frightening him most.
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