The following morning, while Brandi remained asleep, I searched my former office closet for proper medical supplies and discovered my previous cellphone. It had no SIM card, could not make calls or send messages, but its battery still had power.
One note appeared inside the Notes application, labeled FOR DAD, containing twenty-six separate entries. Every single one was addressed to me, but none had ever reached me.
The earliest entry read: Day 1. Hi Dad. I’m writing you every night like you said. I’m ok.
I scrolled through the heartbreaking entries: Day 9. Dwight’s boys took my lizard. They said it ran away. Day 14. I slept in the shed. It was dark. I counted to 1,000. Day 19. Mom said if I tell you anything, you’ll stop sending money and we’ll lose the house. Day 22. I miss you. I put your hoodie on my pillow.
Finally, I reached the final entry dated two evenings before my unexpected return: Day 26. Dad, Dwight pressed my arm on the stove because the noodles burned. A man taped a paper to our door. Mom cried. Dwight said the bank is taking our house and it’s your fault for not sending enough money. Mom said I can’t tell you, because then you’ll find out where the money went. Please come home. I’m not ok.
THE FINANCIAL BETRAYAL
I carefully captured screenshots of all twenty-six entries. Afterward, I searched for the document Finn mentioned and discovered it folded inside Brandi’s handbag on the kitchen counter—a mortgage default notice indicating our payments were four months overdue, despite my transferring the money every single month without fail.
Beneath the notice lay several casino debt documents from Coushatta totaling thirty-one thousand dollars, along with an eight-thousand-dollar cashier’s check payable to Dwight Pruitt for his truck payment. The money intended to protect our family home had been redirected toward gambling and Dwight’s vehicle, while Finn faced the consequences.
I stepped outside and contacted the Lafayette Parish Sheriff’s Office, followed by a call to Gloria, my mother-in-law in Tulsa, who was completely unaware of Brandi’s financial ruin and lies.
Two sheriff’s deputies arrived shortly after nine that morning. Dwight stirred in my recliner when an officer approached with a flashlight.
“What is this?” he slurred. “Wade, man, come on.”
One officer noticed Finn’s covered forearm and carefully removed the duct tape. Beneath the makeshift covering was a serious, infected burn with visible blistering in a curved pattern resembling the rim of a cooking pan.
“Who did this, son?” the deputy asked.
Finn raised his eyes toward me. I lowered myself beside him: “You can tell the truth now, buddy. I’m home. I’m not going anywhere.”
My son quietly pointed toward Dwight.
THE ARREST AND LEGAL BATTLE
The deputies took Dwight into custody inside our living room while his two children watched. Brandi appeared downstairs wearing her robe, immediately raising her voice: “You’re ruining my life! You’re never here!”
The second deputy presented the financial documents found inside her purse. “Ma’am, you’re going to want to stop talking and call a lawyer.”
Dwight subsequently faced a felony child a.b.u.s.e charge, while Brandi faced charges involving child neglect and failure to report the situation. That afternoon, the court granted me temporary emergency custody of Finn.
Working alongside my attorney, I brought our overdue mortgage payments current within nine days, saving our home from foreclosure. Gloria drove from Tulsa the following day, bringing Finn a replacement pet lizard inside a shoebox with ventilation holes and providing crucial testimony supporting our case.
I officially resigned from my offshore drilling position and accepted a job at a local refinery only twenty minutes away, working daytime hours and returning home before five each evening. My income decreased significantly, but being present and safe for my son mattered far more than anything else.
