Rubber-banded bundles covered the table. There were cash piles in his briefcase. His lips moved silently as he sorted through what looked like thousands of dollars.
My heart raced in my ears. We supposedly had no savings left because everything went to Sienna’s therapy. Where could this much cash come from?
“Honey, I’m home early!” I called, giving him time to hide whatever he was doing. By the time he came to the kitchen, the office door was locked, and the money was gone. “Hey, love, how was work?” he asked, kissing my forehead like nothing was wrong.
That night, Reginald went to bed early, saying he had a headache. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to prep ingredients for dinner the next day. My laptop was at the office, but Reginald had left his open on the dining room table.
I clicked on it, planning to find a recipe for the chicken dish he liked. Instead, I found something that shook me. The browser was open to a child talent agency website.
A page of smiling kids filled the screen, each with professional photos and booking details. My finger trembled as I scrolled through the faces, and then my world fell apart. There she was.
Sienna. Listed under a different name with a full profile and rate card: “Available for short-term jobs. Great with emotional scenes.
$200 per booking.”Continue reading…
