Chương 6
Vanessa looked away.
That was harder to accept than blame.
Blame was simple.
Blame gave her a person to fight.
A problem she could point at.
The possibility that she had been struggling because of a combination of bad choices, bad circumstances, and someone else's actions was much harder.
Because it meant she had to find the truth.
Not just punish herself.
That night, she told Stallone what she found.
He did not react immediately.
He read the documents twice.
Then he placed them on the table.
"Who had access?"
Vanessa shook her head.
"Only a few people."
"Names."
She hesitated.
That hesitation worried him.
"Vanessa."
"My business partner."
"Who?"
She looked down.
"Tyler's father."
The room changed.
Daniel had not known.
Neither had Stallone.
"He was involved?"
"At the beginning."
"What happened?"
Vanessa rubbed her hands together.
"He said he wanted to help."
Stallone leaned back.
"And then?"
"He left."
"When?"
"Three months before Emily died."
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone in the room understood the same thing.
The problem had started long before yesterday's argument.
The water pitcher had only revealed what had been buried underneath.
A family built on people hiding pain.
A business built on borrowed time.
A woman who thought she had to carry everything alone.
And now a missing piece of the truth waiting to be found.
The next morning, Vanessa drove to the old office where her former partner still worked.
She sat in the parking lot for twenty minutes before getting out of the car.
Not because she was afraid of him.
Because she was afraid of what she might learn.
When she finally walked inside, the receptionist recognized her immediately.
"Vanessa?"
She nodded.
"I need to speak with Aaron."
The receptionist's expression changed slightly.
"Is he expecting you?"
"No."
The woman looked toward the hallway.
Then back at Vanessa.
"Wait here."
A few minutes later, Aaron appeared.
He looked older than she remembered.
Not physically.
Something else.
Like someone who had spent months avoiding a conversation he knew would eventually arrive.
"Vanessa."
His voice was careful.
Too careful.
She noticed.
"You knew I would come eventually."
Aaron looked away.
"I was hoping you wouldn't."
That was the first honest thing he had said.
And it was enough to tell her she had not come here looking for a mistake.
She had come looking for a truth.
Aaron stepped back and held the office door open.
Vanessa walked inside slowly.
She had imagined this moment many times during the drive.
She imagined shouting.
She imagined demanding answers.
She imagined walking away after saying something that would finally make him understand the damage he had caused.
Instead, she stood in the middle of his office and felt strangely tired.
Anger required energy.
She had spent most of hers pretending she was fine.
Aaron closed the door behind them.
The office was smaller than she remembered.
Or maybe she had changed.
The framed certificates on the wall looked exactly the same.
The old leather chair in the corner had the same tear near the armrest.
A half-empty coffee cup sat beside a stack of folders.
"You found the transfer," Aaron said.
Vanessa stared at him.
"You knew."
Aaron looked down.
"I knew you would eventually."
The answer made her chest tighten.
"How long?"
He did not respond.
"How long did you know?"
"Vanessa."
"No."
Her voice was sharper than she expected.
"Do not say my name like that fixes something."
Aaron sat down.
He rubbed his hands together.
"I was going to handle it."
She almost laughed.
"Handle it?"
"I thought I could replace the money."
"With what?"
He looked away.
That was enough.
Vanessa felt the anger return.
"You stole from me."
Aaron shook his head quickly.
"No."
She stared at him.
"No?"
"I borrowed."
The word hung in the room.
Borrowed.
A word people used when they wanted something to sound temporary.
"When were you going to give it back?"
Aaron did not answer.
Vanessa nodded slowly.
"Right."
She walked toward the desk.
"How much?"
He hesitated.
"How much, Aaron?"
"About forty thousand."
The number was almost too large to understand.
She grabbed the edge of the desk.
Forty thousand.
That was rent.
Payroll.
Supplies.
Months of work.
"You let me think I failed."
"I didn't."
"You did."
Aaron looked frustrated.
"I watched that restaurant struggling too."
"Because you took money from it."
"I was trying to save it."
The sentence made her stop.
For a second, she almost believed him.
That was the dangerous part.
People rarely saw themselves as villains.
Aaron stood.
"When the business started going bad, I thought one good month would fix everything."
"And when it didn't?"
"I panicked."
"So you hid it."
He looked down.
"Yes."
The honesty was painful.
Because it came too late.
Vanessa turned toward the window.
Outside, people walked past carrying coffee cups and talking about ordinary things.
Nobody knew that inside this office, someone was admitting that he had helped destroy the thing another person had spent years building.
"Did Emily know?"
Aaron went still.
The silence answered before he did.
Vanessa turned around.
"What did you say?"
Aaron looked uncomfortable.
"Emily knew there were problems."
"Problems?"
She stepped closer.
"Did she know about the money?"
"I told her I was going to fix it."
Vanessa felt the room shift.
"She knew."
Aaron swallowed.
"Yes."
The anger disappeared.
Not because she forgave him.
Because something else arrived.
A painful understanding.
Emily had known.
And she had said nothing.
Why?
Why had she carried that information alone?
Aaron sat back down.
"She asked me not to tell you."
Vanessa stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because she knew how you were."
The words hurt.
"How I was?"
"She knew you would blame yourself."
Vanessa looked away.
The worst part was that she knew it was true.
Emily had always understood her better than she understood herself.
Aaron continued.
"She said you were already carrying too much."
May you like
Vanessa's eyes burned.
"She shouldn't have protected me from the truth."
