PART 4 – Abby Held Something Between Her Fingers, and Suddenly My Sister’s Strange Phone Call Was the Least of My Worries

I crossed the hallway as quickly as I could.

Abby stood beside the front door, her backpack still on the floor.

The jacket was zipped almost to her chin.

Her left hand remained buried in the pocket.

Her right hand was extended toward me.

"Mom, I didn't know it was in there."

I stopped in front of her.

"What did you find?"

She swallowed.

"I put my hand inside to see how deep the pocket was."

Her eyes moved from my face to the thing she was holding.

"Then I felt something."

I reached for her wrist gently.

She was shaking.

"It's okay, honey. Let me see."

She opened her fingers a little.

I leaned closer.

At first, my mind refused to make sense of what I was seeing.

I looked at the object, then at Abby, then back at her hand.

The hallway seemed to grow smaller around us.

A moment earlier, I had been worrying about the cost of groceries and wondering how I would deal with Marla.

Those worries suddenly felt very far away.

I could barely hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.

All I could focus on was what my daughter had pulled from the jacket pocket.

"Where exactly did you find this?"

Abby pointed toward the pocket with her other hand.

"Right there. It was pushed down inside."

I looked at the jacket.

The one I had paid eighty dollars for.

The one Marla had insisted was worth every penny.

The one she had suddenly demanded back before Abby could wear it.

My thoughts began racing through the morning again.

Marla's first question.

Had Abby worn it yet?

Her relief when I said no.

Her sudden change of tone.

Her insistence that I leave the jacket alone.

I had thought she was being selfish.

I had thought she regretted selling something Kayla might still need.

Now I wondered whether that was the explanation she wanted me to believe.

I looked at Abby.

"Did you show this to anyone else?"

She shook her head.

"No, Mommy. I came straight to you."

I nodded, though my thoughts were moving too quickly for me to say anything useful.

She was only ten.

Whatever this meant, she had no reason to carry it alone.

I placed one hand on her shoulder.

"You're not in trouble."

Her mouth trembled.

"I didn't do anything."

"I know."

I wanted my voice to sound certain.

I wanted her to see the mother she needed, not the woman who was standing in the hallway struggling to understand what was happening.

I took another breath.

Then I looked again at the object between her fingers.

The realization came slowly, and then all at once.

My stomach dropped.

My knees weakened so suddenly that I reached for the wall.

Abby moved closer to me.

"Mom?"

I couldn't answer her immediately.

I had spent the morning trying to understand why Marla had become so desperate to get the jacket back.

Now I was beginning to understand why she hadn't wanted Abby to wear it.

And the thought frightened me more than anything my sister had said.

I lowered myself slightly so I could look Abby in the eyes.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me."

She nodded.

I kept my voice quiet.

"Don't put your hand in that pocket again, okay?"

She pulled her hand out at once.

I took the jacket carefully, trying not to disturb anything else inside it.

The hallway was silent.

Then my phone rang from the kitchen.

I knew who it was before I saw the screen.

Marla.

I left the phone where it was.

It rang again.

Abby watched me.

"Is Aunt Marla coming here?"

I looked at the jacket in my hands.

"Yes," I said.

The word came out softer than I intended.

She glanced down at the object she had found.

"Is she going to be angry with me?"

That question hurt in a way I wasn't prepared for.

Even now, with her frightened and confused, Abby was worried about upsetting the person who had treated her mother so cruelly the day before.

I shook my head.

"You haven't done anything wrong."

I wanted her to believe that.

I needed her to believe it.

The phone stopped ringing.

For a few seconds, the apartment was quiet again.

Then someone knocked on the front door.

Three quick knocks.

Not the casual kind someone used when they expected to be welcomed inside.

These were sharp and impatient.

Abby turned toward the sound.

I held the jacket against me and stood still.

Marla had arrived.

I could have opened the door immediately.

I could have demanded to know what she had been hiding.

I could have asked why she had taken eighty dollars from me for something she suddenly seemed terrified to leave in my home.

Instead, I looked at my daughter first.

She was standing beside me in her old school shoes, her face still pale.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead.

"Stay here for a moment."

She nodded.

I walked to the door.

Another knock came before I reached it.

My hand rested on the handle.

For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about how to keep the peace with my sister.

I was thinking about Abby.

And whatever had been hidden inside that jacket.

I opened the door.

Click here to continue reading: PART 5: My Sister Walked Into My Home Demanding the Jacket, but the Fear on Her Face Told Me This Was About More Than Money