Chapter 4 - The Questions Fiona Should Never Have Asked)
By late spring, Fiona was behaving differently.
Not better.
Different.
She still complained about money.
She still avoided discussions about work.
She still asked Shannon to cover expenses.
But she had become unusually interested in the house.
It began casually.
"What did you pay for this place?"
Shannon was rinsing dishes.
"Why?"
"I'm just curious."
"You were at the housewarming."
"I don't remember numbers."
"Three sixty-eight."
Fiona whistled.
"And now it's worth what?"
"I don't know."
"You never check?"
"Sometimes."
Fiona leaned against the counter.
"The house down the street sold for almost five hundred."
"That's nice."
"So you have a lot of equity."
Shannon turned off the faucet.
"Why are we discussing my equity?"
Fiona laughed.
"We're not discussing. I'm talking."
"About my equity."
"You make everything sound suspicious."
Shannon dried her hands.
"I didn't say it was suspicious."
Fiona smiled.
Too quickly.
Then she changed the subject.
A week later, she asked where Shannon kept important documents.
Again, there was a reasonable explanation.
Noah needed his birth certificate for summer camp registration.
Fiona said she was thinking about organizing her own records.
Shannon showed her the fireproof drawer in the office.
Mortgage documents.
Insurance policies.
Tax records.
Passport.
The deed copy.
"Very responsible," Fiona said.
Shannon shut the drawer.
"Occupational disease."
Two days later, Shannon came home and noticed the drawer wasn't fully closed.
She assumed she had left it that way.
Another week passed.
Fiona asked whether Shannon had a will.
"No."
"You should."
"Are you planning to kill me?"
Fiona laughed.
"I'm serious."
"I'm twenty-nine."
"People die at twenty-nine."
"That's comforting."
"What happens to the house?"
"Fiona."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Mom and Dad?"
"Probably."
"And then?"
Shannon stared at her.
"Why are you so interested in my death lately?"
Fiona rolled her eyes.
"I'm interested in planning."
"Plan your own death."
"You're impossible."
The conversation seemed ridiculous.
Shannon forgot it by dinner.
But the odd questions continued.
Did Shannon have life insurance?
Could a relative assume a mortgage?
Would a bank let someone keep living in a property during probate?
What was the difference between a beneficiary and an owner?
Each question had an explanation when taken separately.
Together, they formed something Shannon should have noticed.
She didn't.
Because suspicion felt ugly.
And Shannon had spent her whole life trying not to think ugly things about people she loved.
The children distracted her too.
Noah had soccer.
Sadie had a school project.
Eli lost two teeth in one month and insisted the Tooth Fairy was experiencing inflation.
Shannon laughed more with the children than she did with any adults in the house.
One Saturday morning, Sadie entered Shannon's bedroom carrying a paper crown made from yellow construction paper.
"For you."
"Why?"
"Because you're the queen of the house."
Shannon smiled.
"I thought your mother was."
Sadie shook her head.
"Mom says you only think you're the boss because your name is on the house."
Shannon's smile faded.
Sadie didn't notice.
She placed the paper crown on Shannon's head.
"It's crooked."
"Queens don't care."
That afternoon, Shannon found Fiona by the pool.
"What have you been telling the kids about the house?"
Fiona looked up from her phone.
"What?"
"Sadie said you told them I only think I'm the boss because my name is on the house."
Fiona laughed.
"It's a joke."
"Don't involve them."
"In what?"
"Our disagreements."
"We don't have disagreements."
Shannon stared.
Fiona returned to her phone.
"You create tension and then accuse me of involving the kids."
"Fiona."
"What?"
"This is my house."
Fiona slowly looked up.
There was something unfamiliar in her expression.
Coldness.
"Yes, Shannon."
The way she said it made Shannon uncomfortable.
"I know."
That night, Shannon checked the document drawer.
Everything appeared normal.
She almost closed it.
Then she noticed the deed copy was upside down.
Shannon always stored papers facing forward.
Always.
She removed the folder.
Nothing was missing.
She checked the mortgage statements.
Nothing missing.
Insurance.
Taxes.
Passport.
Everything was there.
She felt foolish.
Maybe Fiona had needed something.
Maybe one of the children had opened the drawer.
Maybe Shannon herself had replaced the deed incorrectly.
She closed it.
The next morning she bought a small key lock.
When Fiona noticed, she smirked.
"Protecting national secrets?"
"Work documents."
"Sure."
Shannon didn't respond.
Two weeks later, the family attended Robert's birthday dinner.
Elaine had organized everything.
Reservations.
Cake.
A framed photograph from the grandchildren.
Fiona had bought their father a new watch.
Shannon paid for half of it after Fiona promised to reimburse her.
She never did.
During dinner, Elaine raised her glass.
"To your father, who has spent his life putting his family first."
Everyone smiled.
Shannon smiled too.
But something twisted in her stomach.
Her own birthday was six weeks away.
She wondered whether anyone would remember.
Then she hated herself for wondering.
On the drive home, Fiona sat beside her because Robert had taken the children in his vehicle.
She looked out the window.
"Mom said you're thinking about asking me to move."
Shannon tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
"I said we needed to discuss the future."
"Same thing."
"No."
"Do you want us gone?"
"I want a plan."
"We have a plan."
"What is it?"
Fiona turned toward her.
"I get stable."
"How?"
"I find work."
"When?"
"When I can."
"Fiona, it's been more than a year."
"I know exactly how long it's been."
Shannon hesitated.
Then asked:
"Are you receiving child support?"
Fiona looked away.
"Sometimes."
"How much?"
"Not enough."
"That's not a number."
"Why do you need to know?"
"Because you're living in my house and telling me you can't contribute."
Fiona's expression hardened.
"You're not entitled to know every detail of my finances."
Shannon almost laughed.
"Yet I'm expected to finance the details you won't tell me."
Fiona turned toward the window again.
"You've changed."
Shannon drove silently.
After several minutes Fiona whispered:
"Mom was right."
"About what?"
"Money has made you selfish."
Shannon didn't answer.
But that night, she added a new spreadsheet to the Household folder.
For the first time, she totaled everything.
The number exceeded forty thousand dollars.
Shannon stared at it for a long time.
Then she heard footsteps outside her office.
The door handle moved.
It was locked.
The footsteps stopped.
A few seconds later, Fiona's voice came through the door.
"Shannon?"
"Yes?"
"Why is this locked?"
Shannon looked at the spreadsheet.
"Because it's my office."
There was silence.
Then Fiona said:
"Okay."
May you like
Her footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
Shannon didn't realize she had been holding her breath until the sound was gone.
