Chapter 4 - The Ripple Effect
The next morning, my phone started ringing at 7:30 AM.
I was standing in the kitchen, flipping blueberry pancakes while Emma sat at the kitchen island happily sketching a picture of Mount Fuji with Mickey Mouse ears on top.
I glanced at the caller ID on my counter.
*Dad.*
I let it ring. It went to voicemail after four chimes.
Two minutes later, it rang again.
*Mom.*
I ignored that one too. I calmly flipped another pancake, placed it onto Emma’s plate, and poured a drizzle of pure maple syrup over the top.
"Here you go, artist," I smiled.
"Thanks, Daddy!" she chirped, completely transformed from the shattered little girl of the previous night. She took a big bite and hummed happily. "Are we going to buy our plane tickets today?"
"Already bought them at midnight," I replied, tapping her nose. "Business class. Seats that turn into actual beds on the airplane, so you can sleep all the way across the Pacific Ocean."
Her eyes sparkled like diamonds. That look alone was worth ten Mediterranean cruises.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with an incoming text message. It was from my father.
*David, pick up the phone immediately. There is a massive emergency with the Royal Caribbean reservation. We think the company made a clerical error or got hacked. Call me NOW.*
I took a slow sip of my black coffee, feeling an icy calm settle over my nerves.
A clerical error. A hack. Of course. In his mind, there was no possibility that the universe wouldn't bend over backward to hand him a forty-two-thousand-dollar vacation for free. He genuinely believed that his former company, a mid-level regional freight distributor that hadn't given out Christmas bonuses since 2014, had awarded him a world-class luxury cruise out of the goodness of their corporate hearts.
The phone rang a third time. This time, it was Jessica.
I picked up.
"Where the hell have you been?" Jessica’s shrill voice blasted through the speaker before I even had the phone to my ear. "Mom is having an absolute panic attack! Dad’s blood pressure is through the roof!"
"Good morning to you too, Jessica," I said, leaning against the kitchen counter.
"Don't 'good morning' me!" she snapped. "Dad logged into the Royal Caribbean app this morning to show Aunt Brenda the pictures of the presidential suite, and the entire itinerary disappeared! When he called the customer service line, the automated system said the reservation had been canceled by the account holder last night!"
"Is that so?" I murmured, swirling my coffee.
"Yes! Dad tried to explain that it was an executive retirement gift from his company, but the representative said the booking was made under a private Visa Infinite card and canceled from a mobile browser at 8:14 PM yesterday!" Jessica was practically hyperventilating with rage. "Dad called his old HR department, and they had no idea what he was talking about! They said they don't even have a travel reward program! What kind of sick scam is this?!"
"It wasn't a scam, Jessica," I said calmly.
There was a sudden, jarring pause on the other end of the line.
May you like
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave, suspicion creeping into her tone. "David... what do you know about this?"
"I know everything about it," I replied, watching Emma happily draw a picture of Donald Duck in her notebook. "Because I was the one who paid for it. And I was the one who canceled it at 8:14 PM."
