Katrina

Chapter Seven - Story B

THE DAY TRUST DIED

Story B — The Past

Edward knew something was wrong before he reached the bedroom.

Anna's side of the wardrobe stood open.

He stopped in the doorway.

Several hangers were missing. The jewellery box she kept on her dressing table was gone, along with the small suitcase she used whenever she travelled with the children.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Then he walked through the house, calling her name.

“Anna?”

No answer.

He checked the children's rooms.

Empty.

Their clothes were gone. So were the little things that made the rooms theirs.

Edward gripped the doorframe.

“No.”

He hurried downstairs and reached for his phone. His first call went unanswered. He tried again, then called the housekeeper.

“Have you seen Anna? Where are the children?”

There was a pause.

“Señor, I thought you knew. Señora Anna left with them.”

The words made no sense.

“Left where?”

“I don't know, sir.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

Edward ended the call without saying goodbye.

He stood in the middle of the room, phone pressed against his ear long after the line had gone dead.

This morning.

He had been at work, attending meetings and discussing plans for a future he believed they were building together.

Meanwhile, his wife had been preparing to leave him.

His Anna.

The woman who had kissed him goodbye and looked into his eyes while he trusted every word she said.

He called her again.

This time, the call went straight to voicemail.

“Anna, it's me.” His voice sounded strange even to himself. “I don't understand what's happening. Please call me.”

He ended the message, then immediately called again.

“Please. Just tell me the children are safe.”

Nothing.

Edward lowered the phone.

He had spent years believing that whatever happened in the world outside their home, he could always return to Anna. He had trusted her with his fears, his business, his children, and the parts of himself he rarely showed anyone.

He had never considered that she might use that trust to disappear.

His gaze fell on the documents stacked on his desk.

The papers he had signed at her request.

He picked them up, his eyes moving over the pages. He recognised his signature. He remembered Anna explaining that the arrangements were necessary for the family's future.

He had asked whether everything was in order.

She had kissed his cheek and told him not to worry.

He had believed her.

His hands tightened around the papers.

Then he stopped.

Destroying them would change nothing. These were copies of documents already submitted for processing. If he wanted to challenge what had been done, he would need legal advice, not a handful of torn pages.

A sound at the front door made him turn.

Anna walked in.

Edward stared at her.

For one impossible second, relief washed over him so intensely that he nearly crossed the room to embrace her.

Then he saw the expression on her face.

She wasn't there to come home.

“Where are the children?” he asked.

“They're safe.”

“Where are they, Anna?”

“Somewhere you won't find them today.”

He flinched.

“Why are you speaking to me like this?”

Anna set her handbag down.

“Because we need to talk, Eduardo.”

He hated the calmness in her voice. He would almost have preferred shouting. Anger would at least have meant there was something left between them worth fighting over.

“Then explain.” He held up the papers. “Explain these. Explain why our children's rooms are empty. Explain why you've been ignoring my calls.”

Anna glanced at the documents.

“You signed them.”

“Because you told me they were necessary.”

“They were.”

“For what?”

“For securing the future of this family.”

Edward stared at her.

“I'm your family.”

For the first time, something flickered across her face. It might have been discomfort. It disappeared too quickly for him to be certain.

“Yes,” she said. “You are.”

“Then why?”

Anna took a breath.

“Because I wanted more, Edward.”

He waited for her to continue.

“More than this life. More influence. More control over what happens to me and the children. I spent years standing beside you while every important decision was made around your name, your business, your legacy.”

“I gave you a place in everything I built.”

“You gave me a place beside you.” Her voice sharpened. “That isn't the same as having power of my own.”

“I trusted you.”

“I know.”

The answer was so simple that he struggled to understand it.

“You knew I trusted you, and you used it against me?”

“I did what I had to do.”

“No.” Edward shook his head. “Don't make this sound inevitable. You could have spoken to me. You could have asked me for anything. We could have worked something out.”

“And you would have given me more money, another property, another promise that things would change.” Anna looked away. “But I didn't want to keep asking you for pieces of a life I wanted to control myself.”

“So you decided to take it.”

“I decided to stop waiting.”

Edward looked down at the documents again.

“What exactly have you done?”

“The arrangements you signed put your business interests under a structure that gives Jason a future stake and places the authority to manage those interests in my hands while he's still young. The paperwork has already moved forward.”

His face went pale.

“You told me these were family arrangements.”

“They are.”

“You made me believe I was protecting our son.”

“You were securing his future.”

“And yours,” he said quietly.

Anna didn't deny it.

Edward sat down, suddenly unable to trust his legs.

He thought of all the times he had signed what she placed before him. The times he'd been tired, distracted, or in a hurry to return to her and the children. He had never imagined he needed to guard himself against the woman he loved.

“Can I challenge it?” he asked.

“You can speak to a lawyer.”

The answer offered no comfort.

“Have you already spoken to one?”

“My solicitor will deal with the formalities.”

Edward looked up at her.

“You've planned all of this.”

Anna said nothing.

He studied her face, searching for the woman who had once held his hand beneath the table when the children were misbehaving, who had laughed with him over dinner, who had fallen asleep against his shoulder.

He couldn't find her.

“Did you ever love me?”

For the first time, Anna looked genuinely unsettled.

“Don't do that.”

“Answer me.”

“I cared for you.”

“That isn't what I asked.”

She looked away.

Edward's mouth trembled. He nodded once, as though her silence had answered more clearly than words could have.

“I would have given you everything,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“Then why wasn't it enough?”

“Because everything you wanted to give me still came with you at the centre of it.” Anna's eyes shone, though her voice remained firm. “I wanted a life where I didn't have to depend on your goodwill to have a say.”

He stared at her.

He could understand wanting independence. He could understand wanting a greater voice in the business and a future she had helped shape.

What he couldn't understand was why she had chosen deception when he had given her every opportunity to be honest.

“You could have told me the truth,” he said.

“And risk you refusing?”

The words struck him silent.

There it was.

Not a misunderstanding. Not a desperate decision made in a moment of fear.

She had known he might refuse, so she had made sure he never understood what he was agreeing to.

Edward lowered his head.

A tear fell onto the document in his hand.

Anna watched him, but she didn't move to comfort him.

“There is something else,” she said.

He lifted his eyes.

“You have one week to leave this house.”

For several seconds, he didn't seem to understand her.

“My home?”

“I need you to make arrangements to move out. My solicitor will send you formal notice and begin the necessary proceedings if you refuse.”

“You can't simply tell me to leave my own home.”

“I'm telling you that this arrangement cannot continue. If you contest it, the lawyers can deal with it.”

Edward rose slowly.

“You're throwing me out of my own life, Anna.”

“I'm giving you a week to make arrangements.”

He looked at her as though she had struck him.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then the matter will go through the courts.”

She picked up her handbag.

Edward stood motionless, waiting for her to say something that might soften the cruelty of what she had done. An apology. A sign that she understood what she was taking from him.

Instead, Anna walked toward the door.

“Will I see the children?” he asked.

She stopped, her hand resting on the handle.

“I'll decide what arrangements are appropriate.”

“Anna, please.”

His voice broke on her name.

She turned to look at him.

For one fleeting moment, he thought she might come back.

Then she opened the door and left.

Edward remained standing long after he heard her footsteps disappear.

The documents lay scattered across the desk. The house was silent. His children's rooms waited upstairs, emptied of the small lives that had once filled them.

He had lost control of the business arrangements he thought he understood. He was facing the possibility of losing his home. And the woman he had trusted most had made it clear that even seeing his children might now depend on her decision.

He sank into the nearest chair and covered his face.

He hadn't deserved this.

He had loved her. He had trusted her. He had believed that marriage meant they could speak honestly, even when they disagreed.

Perhaps that had been his mistake—not loving Anna, but believing love meant he never needed to question her.

A family photograph stood on the desk.

Edward looked at it through blurred eyes. He and Anna were smiling, the children gathered between them, all of them believing they belonged to one another.

He picked it up carefully.

He couldn't bring himself to put it down.

He couldn't bear to look at it.

And when the first sob escaped him, he bent over the photograph as though holding it close might keep one small piece of his family from being taken away.

He had given Anna his trust without reservation.

Now, in the quiet house she had left behind, he was beginning to understand the price of it.