After His Heart Transplant My Husband Forgot His Daughter Chapter 03
Four days later was Elodie’s school science fair.
She had spent two months preparing for it. She built a model heart, using clear tubing for blood vessels and two plastic pumps for the ventricles. Flip a switch, and red and blue liquid would flow through the tubes in a perfect circulatory loop.
At the center of her display board, she had carefully cut out a title:
How the Heart Keeps a Person Alive
Before we left, Elodie checked the parent sign-in sheet one more time.
“Dad said he’d come.”
It was the first time she had brought up Grady on her own since she stopped making recordings.
The night before, he had texted a promise not to miss her presentation. Elodie had read the message three times, then set an empty chair beside her model.
At school, she kept glancing toward the auditorium entrance every few minutes.
“Mom, maybe Dad’s parking.”
“Mom, maybe he went to the back entrance by mistake.”
I didn’t challenge the fragile hope in her voice. I just helped her tighten a leaking tube on the model.
Right before the presentations began, my phone buzzed.
A security alert from the bank.
A large transaction has occurred on the 529 education savings account held jointly by you and Grady Marsden. If this was not authorized, please log in immediately to verify.
I opened the banking app, but the page only spun, refusing to load.
I opened the banking app, but the page only spun, refusing to load.
Onstage, the principal started calling out student names.
After the girl before her finished presenting a model volcano, Elodie looked toward the entrance again. The empty chair was still empty.
“And next up, Elodie Marsden, with ‘How the Heart Keeps a Person Alive.'”
The room broke into applause.
Elodie stepped behind her display table. Her fingers hovered over the switch, but she didn’t press it.
I tried logging into the account again.
The balance had dropped from $48,037 to $37.
Forty-eight thousand dollars, moved out in a single payment that morning.
The transfer note read: Emergency housing funds.
I stared at the number, and Elodie’s voice from the stage seemed to recede into the distance.
That money was every birthday check she’d ever received, the automatic deposits from my paychecks, and the eight thousand dollars my parents had left for her.
I called Grady immediately.
He took a long time to pick up.
“I’m busy right now.”
“You took the money from Elodie’s 529 account?”
A pause on the other end.
“We’ll talk when I get home.”
“Where did the money go?”
“I told you, I’m dealing with something urgent.”
“I told you, I’m dealing with something urgent.”
He hung up.
Onstage, Elodie finally flipped the switch. The red liquid surged into the clear tube, then stopped. One of the connections was loose.
Looking at the empty chair by the door, she said softly, “If the heart stops pumping blood, the person dies.”
Her science teacher helped restart the model, and the room applauded politely.
Grady never showed up.
After the fair, I took Elodie’s hand and led her out of the auditorium. We had just reached the school entrance when I saw Grady hurrying toward us from the parking lot.
Renata was with him.
Her eyes were red, and she was clutching a thick manila envelope. When she saw me, she took a half step back, tucking herself behind Grady.
“I’m so sorry, Sabine. This is all my fault.”
I stopped walking.
“You have the money?”
She pressed her lips together, her face a mask of practiced sorrow.
“The bank was going to foreclose. Today was the final deadline. Grady was just helping me stop them from taking the house from me and Finn.”
She slid a few official-looking documents stamped in red halfway out, then quickly pushed them back into the envelope.
“You have to understand him, Sabine. He’s never forgotten his debt to Elias. He couldn’t just stand by and watch Elias’s wife and child end up on the street.”
“You have to understand him, Sabine. He’s never forgotten his debt to Elias. He couldn’t just stand by and watch Elias’s wife and child end up on the street.”
“That was Elodie’s college fund.”
“Enough.”
Grady grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
I yanked it free.
“You took forty-eight thousand dollars from our daughter’s account without my consent. Do you have any idea what that means?”
“Of course I do.” He lowered his voice, his face a knot of irritation. “We won’t need that money for ten years. Renata was going to lose her house today.”
“So you get to trade away Elodie’s future without so much as a phone call?”
“She might not even need that much for college. We can save it again.”
“With what? In the last four years, you’ve bought Finn a computer, paid for his summer camp, fixed Renata’s roof. The money in Elodie’s account was the only thing you hadn’t given away yet.”
Renata suddenly burst into tears.
“Please stop fighting. I’ll give the money back. It’s fine if Finn and I have to sleep in the car.”
Grady turned at once and pulled her into a protective hug.
“No one is making you sleep in a car.”
He spun back to me, his voice sharp. “Sabine, why do you always have to be so cold and unreasonable?”
Parents and kids were still milling around the school gate, but he behaved as if he couldn’t see Elodie standing just a few feet away.
“It’s just money! We can earn it back!”
“It’s just money! We can earn it back!”
“Elias died to save my life! What’s wrong with me helping his widow keep her house?”
He jabbed a finger at me, each word an accusation. “You’re an adult. Can’t you bend a little for the family of the man who saved my life?”
I looked at the arm he had wrapped around Renata’s shoulders.
Four years ago, Elias gave him a heart.
Ever since, Grady had acted as though everything my daughter and I had was simply collateral for that debt.
“Mom.”
Elodie’s voice came from behind me.
She had walked back to the auditorium entrance and was standing beside her display.
She wasn’t crying. She didn’t call out to Grady.
She reached down, lifted the nameplate off her project, and set it gently on the floor.
The red liquid in the clear tubes had long since stopped moving.
“Let’s go, Mom.”
She looked at the model heart.
“My heart isn’t here anymore.”
I took her hand and led her toward the parking lot.
Behind us, Renata was still sobbing.
Grady was still patting her back. He never came after us.
On the drive home, Elodie hugged her schoolbag and stared out the window.
Behind us, Renata was still sobbing.
Grady was still patting her back. He never came after us.
On the drive home, Elodie hugged her schoolbag and stared out the window.
At a red light, I pulled out my phone, found the email from the San Diego dispatch center, and hit Reply.
I accept the position. Please begin the relocation process immediately.
The message sent.
I wasn’t staying here one second longer.