Chapter 3 - The Price of a Handbag
At the Grand Galleria Mall, two hours earlier, Deborah had been beaming with triumphant glee. She strolled out of the high-end boutique clutching a designer leather handbag, while Travis's sister, Chloe, proudly carried three bags of luxury cosmetics.
"I told you she was exaggerating," Deborah scoffed, adjusting her scarf as they walked toward the food court. "All first-time mothers act like dramatic princesses just to keep their husbands on a leash. A few contractions never killed anyone."
Travis walked slightly behind them, staring down at his phone. He had six missed calls from an unlisted number, but he had repeatedly dismissed them. A slight knot of anxiety was twisting in his gut, but he pushed it down, reassuring himself with his mother's toxic logic.
"She's probably just sitting on the couch pouting," Travis muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "She'll be crying when we get back."
"Let her cry!" father-in-law Richard barked, sipping an iced coffee. "She needs to learn respect. You're the man of the house, Travis. You don't jump every time she snaps her fingers. Besides, Deborah needed that bag for the gala next week."
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"Exactly," Deborah agreed smugly. "When we get home, don't you dare apologize, Travis. Make her fix us dinner to make up for her attitude earlier."
They spent another hour casually browsing store windows, utterly indifferent to the life-and-death crisis they had left behind. They laughed, drank overpriced coffee, and bragged about the bargains they had scored, completely oblivious to the fact that their actions had just set off an avalanche that would crush their comfortable lives forever.
