Then I asked the question nobody wanted to answer.
“What illness does she have?”
Phedra touched her chest.
“Cancer.”
Eleven months.
For eleven months, I’d been sending money while my wife was sick.
Selina argued that treatment was expensive and there were no guarantees. But everywhere I looked, my money was visible: new floors, a massive TV, leather furniture, granite countertops, the SUV outside, Godfrey’s top-of-the-line phone.
Phedra had broken sandals and a six-year-old blouse.
“How much of my money did you use for her treatment?”
Selina finally admitted they had paid for a few visits.
Phedra corrected her.
Two.
Two visits in eleven months.
I helped Phedra stand and said we were going to the hospital.
Selina blocked the door.
She accused me of disappearing for four years and coming back to treat my own family like criminals. I rolled up my sleeve and showed her the burn scars and cuts from years in the shop.
“I worked entire nights. I slept in a room with four other guys. I spent two Christmases completely alone so you wouldn’t lack a single thing here.”
“And we didn’t,” Selina said.
I looked at Phedra.
“She did.”
Godfrey blamed me for leaving. Selina said Phedra had brought everything on herself.
Phedra held tightly to my shirt, waiting for me to explode.
I didn’t.
Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
PART 2
Seventeen missed calls from a Canadian number were glowing on my screen.
There was also an email that had arrived while I was on the flight home.
I opened it slowly.
“You’re right,” I told Selina. “Coming in here yelling won’t fix anything.”
Her shoulders loosened. Godfrey stopped looking quite so nervous.
“We can talk like a family,” I continued. “Actually, I have some news I was planning to give you tomorrow.”
Selina’s attention shifted instantly from Phedra to the phone in my hand.
The email confirmed what those seventeen calls had been about: I had just received a million-dollar settlement following a major industrial safety violation at the Calgary plant that had injured my shoulder two years ago.
I watched the information register on their faces before I added anything else.
I hadn’t come home planning revenge. Until I walked into that backyard, I had still believed the money I’d sent had kept my wife safe.
Now I knew exactly what greed had already cost her.
So I gave my family one detail about the settlement—and deliberately left out the part that mattered most…
“The Canadian firm settled out of court,” I said softly, holding Phedra close to my side. “One million dollars. But because of tax regulations and international wire holds, the primary lump sum will sit in a temporary, revocable escrow account linked to my primary banking file for seventy-two hours.”
Selina’s eyes practically turned into dollar signs. Godfrey stepped forward, suddenly dropping his confrontational attitude.
“Damian… brother,” Godfrey stammered, offering a warm, fake smile. “Look, things got out of hand here. You know how stressful it’s been with Phedra being sick. Mom was just trying to manage the household expenses so you wouldn’t be stressed at work!”
“Is that so?” I asked smoothly.
“Of course!” Selina chimed in, stepping toward me with her hands outstretched. “Damian, my son, we did everything for the family! If Phedra needs better private care, this settlement money changes everything! We can take her to the best oncology clinic in the city!”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Mom,” I said, my voice deadpan. “Because to release the escrow funds without an international audit, the bank requires me to confirm a clean local financial history. Meaning, every asset purchased with the money I sent over the last four years—the SUV, the house deed, Godfrey’s shop inventory—needs to be formally consolidated under one family holding agreement.”
Selina and Godfrey exchanged a greedy, knowing glance. They assumed that by consolidating the assets into a single family trust, they would get their hands on a share of the million dollars.
