Chapter 1: Morning Routine
The alarm clock buzzed sharply at 5:45 AM, cutting through the faint pre-dawn quiet. Marcus Caldwell groaned and slapped it off with a practiced swing of his hand. No snooze. Snoozing was for people with more margin in their lives, not for men like him—thirty-four, married with three kids, and carrying the weight of three jobs: his nine-to-five in finance, managing three rental properties, and, of course, being a father and husband. He had no room for extra minutes of sleep.
Marcus swung his legs out of bed, planting his feet on the cool hardwood floor. Vanessa stirred beside him but didn't wake. He glanced over, noting the small frown creasing her face, even in sleep. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he pushed himself up. No time to dwell. The day wouldn't wait.
By the time he had showered and dressed in his charcoal-gray suit and crisp blue tie, the house was beginning to wake. Seven-year-old Layla's bedroom door creaked open, and her small figure padded down the hall to the kitchen where Marcus was brewing coffee.
"Morning, Daddy," she said, her voice groggy but sweet.
"Morning, baby," Marcus replied, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Ready for school?"
She nodded, her curls bouncing, then asked, "Can we have waffles today?"
Marcus glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. The waffles were going to cut it close, but her hopeful eyes swayed him. "Alright," he said, pulling out the waffle iron. "Go wake your brothers while I make 'em."
Within minutes, the kitchen was alive with the chatter of Layla and her two younger brothers, Liam and Miles. Vanessa joined them, still in her robe but carrying an energy that suggested she'd been awake longer than he realized.
"Morning," she said, leaning on the counter. Her tone was neutral but clipped, a subtle reminder of their unresolved argument from the night before.
"Morning," Marcus replied, carefully keeping his voice light. "Waffles okay?"
"They're fine," she said, pouring herself coffee. "I'll get the lunches packed."
The room buzzed with activity: Marcus flipping waffles, Vanessa zipping backpacks, and the kids squabbling over which cartoon was better, Paw Patrol or Bluey. The routine was practiced, efficient—yet heavy, as if the air carried invisible weight that neither of them acknowledged but both felt.
Once the kids were loaded into the car for school drop-off, Vanessa turned to him. "You have a full day at the office?"
"Yeah," Marcus said, adjusting his tie in the hall mirror. "Big meeting with the team. Supposed to go over projections for next quarter."
She hesitated, then said, "Don't forget, we have that parent-teacher conference tonight. Six o'clock."
"I won't forget," he said quickly, though the truth was he almost had. "I'll leave work early."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You said that last time."
Marcus felt the sting but said nothing. Instead, he grabbed his briefcase and kissed her cheek. "See you tonight."
She nodded, her eyes softening slightly but still distant. "See you."
Chapter 2: The Meeting
By the time Marcus arrived at the office, the hum of anxiety had already settled into his chest. The glass walls and sleek white desks of Pearson Capital's headquarters felt sterile, almost clinical. He greeted a few colleagues on the way to his desk, their responses polite but perfunctory. It was a routine he was used to.
