James Michael Thompson adjusted his tie and glanced at the amount on his phone screen again. Two thousand dollars. A hefty sum, but his mom needed help. He carefully took his wife’s credit card from her wallet, mindful not to disturb the other cards and receipts. Sarah never minded helping his parents, but lately, their finances had been tighter. “You won’t miss it, sweetheart,” he whispered, quickly entering the payment details into the banking app.
A notification ping made him flinch. Transfer successful. James was about to slip the card back when he decided to check the balance, just to ensure Sarah had enough for her daily expenses.
He tapped the “Transaction History” tab and froze. His hand, still holding the phone, began to tremble, and his mouth went dry. A strange transaction from last night glowed on the screen.
Transfer. Recipient: Matthew Anthony Harris. Amount: $4,500.
James blinked several times, hoping he’d misread. But the numbers didn’t change. Who was this Harris? Why had Sarah sent him such a huge amount? And, most importantly, why hadn’t she mentioned it? Fragments of memories flashed through his mind.
In recent weeks, Sarah had been staying late at work, checking her phone more often, and quickly tucking it away when he entered the room. Those details had seemed trivial at the time. James ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away the troubling thoughts.
A heavy feeling settled in his chest. “Dad, why do you look so pale?” came his daughter’s voice from the hallway. “Everything’s fine, Lily,” he replied.
James hastily pocketed the phone. “Just a bit tired.” His fifteen-year-old daughter walked into the kitchen, tying her hair into a ponytail.
Her walk, her gestures—everything reminded him of Sarah in her youth, the same grace, the same easy smile. “Is Mom coming home late again?” Lily grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. “Probably,” James said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“She’s got a lot of work.” Work? Or was she somewhere else entirely? Fourteen years of marriage, and suddenly he felt he didn’t know what his wife was thinking or how she lived. The phone in his pocket felt like a burning coal.
He wanted to call Sarah right then and demand answers. “Dad, can I go to Emma’s tonight? She’s got this new video editing software we want to try.”
Lily looked at him hopefully. James nodded, barely registering her words. His mind was spinning.
Check her social media, search for this Harris, call mutual friends. “No, better not draw attention.” “Be home by eight,” he added automatically.
“Awesome, thanks, Dad!” Lily kissed his cheek and darted to her room. Alone, James pulled out his phone and opened a search engine.
Matthew Harris yielded hundreds of results. He added their town’s name, Fairview, Ohio, and scrolled through the pages. Something on the third page caught his eye.