Chương 12
“Do not call the bank yet.”
I looked up sharply even though she could not see me.
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to preserve what you can see before anything changes.”
I began taking screenshots.
My hands shook so badly that I captured the wrong screen twice.
“Download statements if the app allows it.”
I did.
“Go back at least a year.”
“I thought we had ninety thousand.”
“How sure?”
“I checked before Nathan was born.”
“When?”
“Maybe two months ago.”
“And what did you see?”
I stopped.
“I saw the total assets number.”
Patricia was silent.
I swallowed.
“He must have moved money between accounts and I didn’t notice.”
“Possibly.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“That feeling is not useful right now.”
“It’s accurate.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“It is incomplete.”
I closed my eyes.
“I signed into our banking app every week.”
“And did you audit every transaction?”
“No.”
“Most married people do not.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It isn’t supposed to.”
I heard another keyboard clicking.
“Do you have access to his retirement accounts?”
“Not directly.”
“Investment accounts?”
“I thought we had one.”
“Thought?”
“I haven’t looked at it in months.”
“Credit cards?”
“Yes.”
“Check them.”
I opened the first card.
Nothing unusual at first.
Groceries.
Gas.
A restaurant near his office.
Then I found a recurring charge for a storage facility in Springfield.
My stomach tightened.
“Patricia.”
“What?”
“There’s a storage unit.”
“Whose name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Charge amount?”
I told her.
“How long?”
I searched.
“Eleven months.”
“Do you know about it?”
“No.”
“Save everything.”
I kept scrolling.
There were hotel charges too.
Not many.
One night in Richmond.
Two in Baltimore.
Another in Bethesda.
Dates scattered across the last year.
I felt a familiar panic rising.
The obvious conclusion arrived before the evidence did.
“Maybe he was cheating.”
“Maybe.”
Patricia refused to give the thought more oxygen than it deserved.
“Do not decide what those charges mean yet.”
“He accused me.”
“I know.”
“What if he was doing it?”
“Then we will learn that from evidence, not symmetry.”
I hated her calmness again.
I needed it anyway.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
Dad stood in the kitchen doorway holding Nathan against his chest.
The baby looked impossibly small in his arms.
Dad did not ask what was wrong.
He simply watched my face.
I turned the phone away from my mouth.
“He’s been moving money.”
Dad’s expression changed.
“How much?”
“Almost seventy thousand.”
His eyes hardened.
Then he caught himself.
“What do you need from me?”
The question mattered.
I looked at him.
“Nothing yet.”
He nodded.
No argument.
No encrypted phone.
No sudden solution.
He adjusted Nathan’s blanket and left the room.
Patricia had heard enough to understand.
“Your father learns quickly.”
“He had professional motivation.”
“I imagine.”
I returned to the transactions.
“Can David empty the rest?”
“Yes, if it is truly a joint account and there is no restriction.”
My stomach dropped.
“There’s still twenty-two thousand.”
“Do not transfer all of it without advice.”
“What if he takes it?”
“We may seek temporary financial restraints, but that takes process.”
“Process.”
“Yes.”
“I’m beginning to hate that word.”
“Everyone does until they need it.”
I opened another account.
Our daughters’ college savings accounts were still there.
For one second I felt relief.
Then I checked the balances.
Emma’s account was down almost six thousand dollars.
Sophie’s was missing four.
Lily’s had lost three.
Grace’s had lost three.
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
“What?”
“He took money from the girls.”
Patricia went quiet.
“How much?”
I added it twice because I did not trust myself.
“About sixteen thousand total.”
“Were those custodial accounts?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was listed as owner?”
“I think both of us.”
“Do not assume criminality.”
“I didn’t say criminal.”
“You sounded ready to.”
I stood abruptly.
Pain ripped through my lower abdomen.
I grabbed the counter.
“Claire?”
“I’m fine.”
Then Emma’s voice from earlier came back to me.
You keep saying that when you’re not.
I exhaled.
“No.”
I lowered myself back into the chair.
“I’m not fine.”
“Good correction.”
“He took their money.”
“We need to determine whether he withdrew it legally, why, and where it went.”
“I don’t care if it was technically legal.”
“That distinction may matter whether you like it or not.”
“I know.”
I pressed my palm against my forehead.
“Could this be gambling?”
“Could be many things.”
“Debt?”
“Yes.”
“Another woman?”
“Yes.”
“A second apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Drugs?”
“Yes.”
“Patricia.”
“You asked possibilities.”
I almost laughed.
“Point taken.”
She softened slightly.
“What matters today is that funds were moved without your knowledge, and some transfers appear to come from accounts intended for the children.”
I stared at the oldest transaction again.
Two days after the ultrasound.
“Why start when we found out the baby was a boy?”
“I don’t know.”
The timing bothered me in a way I could not articulate.
For years David had treated having a son as if it would fix something invisible inside him.
When each daughter was born, he loved her eventually.
I believed that.
But there had always been a small mourning first.
With Emma, he hid it badly.
With Sophie, he made a joke about being outnumbered.
With Lily, he disappeared to the cafeteria for an hour after the ultrasound.
With Grace, he refused to discuss names for almost a month.
Then Nathan.
A boy.
The thing he had wanted.
And two days later he began moving money.
“Could he have been planning to leave?”
Patricia asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Any change in behavior around that time?”
I searched my memory.
He had become more attentive during the pregnancy.
At least I had thought so.
He touched my stomach more.
Asked about appointments.
Bought the baseball glove.
Started talking about teaching Nathan to fish.
He also started staying late at work.
I had barely questioned it because his company was restructuring and he said commissions were under pressure.
May you like
“He worked more.”
“How much more?”
