“If I say I’m pregnant, he’ll beg his mom to forgive me. We’ll get the loan, the house, everything. Then maybe I’ll actually think about getting pregnant.”
I stared at the screen. I didn’t feel shocked. I felt cold, heavy, like the last small stubborn part of me that had still hoped I’d overreacted had just turned to stone.
Rachel added one more message: “I shouldn’t be sending this, but I couldn’t keep watching. Jacob deserves better. You deserve better. I’m sorry for waiting this long.”
I sat with it for a while, then made a call. Not to Jacob. Not to Ellie. To my lawyer.
“Ms. Coleman, do you remember the trust account we set up for Jacob a few years ago?”
“Yes,” she said. “The one meant to release after his first child is born.”
“I want it frozen immediately,” I said. “Put it under review.”
She paused. “Is something wrong?”
“Let’s just say,” I replied, “the birth certificate might be missing a name permanently.”
The next morning, I got a text from Jacob. “Please. Just tell me what you want.”
I didn’t answer. That afternoon, I went to the grocery store on normal errands, and right as I reached for a can of soup I heard a voice behind me.
It was Rachel.
She looked tired but genuine. We stood in the aisle and she said something I didn’t expect.
“Ellie’s done this before. She fakes things. Crises. Drama. Ever since we were teenagers. Once she faked a stalker to get an ex-boyfriend back. Another time she pretended to have a medical scare just to get out of a job she didn’t like.”
She swallowed. “Lying is how she survives. And Jacob is in too deep now. He’s used to the chaos. I think he thinks it’s normal. But it’s not.”
I studied her face. She meant every word.
“Rachel,” I said, “would you testify if it came to that?”
She looked shocked. Then nodded slowly. “Yes. If it helps him, I’ll do it.”
That night, I sat alone in my living room with the fire crackling beside me, and my phone buzzed with a voicemail from Jacob. His voice was ragged.
“Mom, Ellie’s missing. She left this morning and hasn’t come back. Her phone’s off. I don’t know what to do.” A long pause. “I found your old ring box on the dresser. The one Dad gave you. It was open and empty.”
My heart stopped.