We ended up booking an earlier flight home, planning to sit Jacob down for a serious talk when he came back.

But the moment we stepped off the plane and opened the front door, Arnold and I stood frozen in disbelief.

The house was completely empty. Every piece of furniture, every appliance, gone.

I quickened my pace toward the bedroom, only to find it stripped bare as well.

My mind went blank. After a few seconds, I fumbled for my phone with trembling hands and pulled Jacob's number out of the block list.

The instant I did, his social media feed loaded on my screen.

That girlfriend of his, Candice, was draped in the gold necklaces and jewelry I'd spent years collecting, smirking at the camera like she'd won the lottery.

Jacob had captioned the post: "A good wife lifts her man to greatness. I repay my queen in gold."

I nearly exploded.

Arnold and I went through the house, tallying up everything that was missing. The furniture and appliances were one thing, but what truly made my blood boil was my jewelry collection, worth over fifty thousand dollars. Then there were the signed paintings Arnold had collected over the years, plus the emergency cash we kept at home, well over a hundred thousand.

The security cameras in our building had caught it all. Jacob and Candice, loading everything into trucks and hauling it away to sell.

"Call the police," I said.

In that moment, something inside me died.

But just as Arnold picked up his phone to dial, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find two officers standing on our doorstep.

I blinked, confused. Were the police psychic now? We hadn't even filed a report yet, and they were already here.

Seeing me stare at them in bewilderment, one of the officers spoke up.

"Hello. You're Ellie Lawrence, correct?"

"We've received a tip that you may have been embezzling company funds for personal gain. Given your position as an accountant, someone flagged your unusually large bank transactions and savings deposits. We're here to look into it."

I stood there, stunned. My primary job was indeed as a corporate accountant, and everyone knew it. The salary wasn't much. I'd always been meticulous and honest, living on six thousand a month to cover household expenses. The rest of our money came from years of freelance illustration work on my part and Arnold's earnings from his own career.

I pulled up every record I had: my freelance contracts, invoices, bank statements, tax filings. The officers reviewed everything thoroughly and, once they were satisfied there were no irregularities, left.

After they were gone, Arnold's face was dark as a storm cloud, and mine was no better.

Nobody knew about our substantial savings except Jacob. We didn't need to guess who had filed that report.

Our company was a major firm. Two years ago, the finance director had been caught cooking the books, skimming over two million dollars through his position. To make an example of him, the company awarded twenty percent of the recovered amount to the person who'd blown the whistle.

I'd been gossiping about the whole affair with Arnold at the time. Jacob had been sitting right there, playing video games.

The realization hit me like ice water through my veins. This was my son. For a shot at reward money, he had actually reported his own mother.

Thank God I'd always been honest. I had never taken a single cent that wasn't mine.

But my heart was shattered all the same. Was that really what Jacob thought of me? That his own mother was the kind of person who would exploit her position to line her own pockets?

I was still reeling from the pain when my phone rang. Jacob's name lit up the screen. The moment I answered, his smug, taunting voice filled my ear.

"Mom, I gotta say, I'm honestly shocked. All those years handling the books and your record's squeaky clean. What about Dad, though? Is he squeaky clean too?" He let out a laugh. "Here's what I suggest. Bump my monthly allowance up to fifty grand and transfer those savings into my account. Otherwise, I will make your lives a living hell. I'll be on your doorstep every single day, making sure you never have a moment's peace."

"Hurry up! I already promised Candice I'd buy her a BMW! If you don't give me the money, I'll keep filing reports against you. And if it turns out you two actually did do something illegal, you'll end up in prison, and then the money and the house will be mine to do with as I please!"

So that was his game all along. If this was the kind of son he'd become, then I was better off without one.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles ached and let out a cold laugh. "You want a BMW? I think the two of you deserve a prison cell."