Chương 9
Then disappeared.
They returned.
Mark finally replied.
From losing the apartment.
Maya’s face changed.
“What does that mean?”
I did not answer.
Another message arrived.
Things got bad at work and I had to move money around.
Then another.
I was going to fix everything before you had to worry about it.
Maya typed faster this time.
Did you put debt in my name?
The typing indicator appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
No answer.
Maya looked at me.
“That’s an answer.”
“Not legally.”
“I don’t care about legally for one second.”
Her voice cracked.
“Did he put debt in my name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always know.”
“No, I don’t.”
She stood abruptly.
Pain caught her.
I helped lower her back onto the bed.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Treat me like I’m sick.”
“You are sick.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You keep making every decision.”
There it was.
I let go of her arm.
She breathed through the pain, angry at me and probably more angry that her body had sided with me.
“I came here because I wanted clothes,” she said.
“You came because you wanted answers.”
“And you decided how long I could stay.”
“Because the doctor told you to rest.”
“You decided not to open the safe.”
“Because Evelyn agreed it was a bad idea.”
“You told me what to say to Mark.”
“I told you to think.”
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“Take over.”
Her eyes filled.
“You come in, and suddenly everybody else is a witness or a suspect or somebody you need to manage.”
I said nothing.
She looked away.
“Dad used to tell you that.”
The mention of him landed cleanly.
No warning.
No defense.
“He did.”
“You hated it.”
“I did.”
“He was right.”
“Yes.”
Maya turned back toward me.
I had rarely given her a surrender that quickly.
It confused her.
“I’m trying,” I said.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“You photographed my messages.”
“I did.”
“You told me when I could leave the hospital.”
“Yes.”
“You negotiated how long I could come to my own apartment.”
“Yes.”
Her chin lifted.
“So what exactly are you trying?”
“To notice when I’m doing it.”
That stopped her.
Liam made a small squeaking sound between us.
Maya wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand.
“I need you.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t mean I want you running my life.”
“I know.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I’m working on it.”
She stared at me for another moment.
Then she held out her phone.
“What should I ask him?”
I did not take it.
“You decide what you need to know.”
She looked down at the screen.
After a long pause, she typed three questions.
How much debt is there?
What did you use my authorization for?
What is Harbor Point?
She sent them together.
Mark answered only one.
Harbor Point was supposed to save us.
Maya read the message aloud.
“Was supposed to?”
I felt the room narrow around that tense.
Then another message came through.
Please do not go into the office until I get home.
Maya looked toward the hallway.
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That there’s something in there worth hiding.”
I had no argument for that.
We packed the documents exactly where we found them after photographing every page.
Maya took only clothing, toiletries, Liam’s medical paperwork, and a few personal items she could clearly identify as hers.
Before leaving, she stood in the nursery doorway for a long time.
There was almost nothing to collect.
A half-empty package of diapers.
Four onesies.
Two blankets.
A mobile still sealed in its box.
She touched the empty space where the dresser had been.
“My mother-in-law bought that.”
“The dresser?”
“She saved for it.”
“What happened to it?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice became flat.
“She thought we still had it.”
I carried the last bag downstairs.
When we reached my house, Evelyn was waiting in the driveway beside a gray sedan.
A man I did not recognize stood with her.
He was in his late forties, heavyset, wearing a brown coat and no tie.
“This is Aaron Wells,” Evelyn said.
“Forensic accountant.”
Aaron shook Maya’s hand gently.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this.”
Maya looked at me.
“You already hired an accountant?”
“I did not.”
“I did,” Evelyn said.
Maya seemed relieved by that distinction.
Aaron followed us inside and spread a small stack of documents across the dining table.
He had bank statements, corporate filings, and transaction summaries.
Nothing looked dramatic.
That made me more nervous.
People imagine fraud as suitcases of cash and forged passports.
Most of it arrives as ordinary paper.
Aaron pointed to a series of transfers.
“Harbor Point received seventy-four thousand dollars through a business line opened five weeks ago.”
Maya sat down.
“In my name?”
“Partly guaranteed by you.”
Her face went blank.
“And the money?”
“Almost all of it is gone.”
“Where?”
Aaron hesitated.
“Some went to personal expenses.”
“How much?”
“About twenty-two thousand.”
“And the rest?”
“Forty-eight thousand was transferred to another company.”
“What company?”
Aaron turned one page around.
The name printed in the center was C.A. Lifestyle Holdings.
Maya stared at the initials.
I did not need to ask who they belonged to.
Aaron tapped the ownership line.
“Registered agent is Chloe Avery.”
The room went silent.
Maya looked from the paper to Evelyn.
“So he borrowed money using my signature and transferred it to his mistress?”
Aaron answered carefully.
“That is what the records currently suggest.”
Maya’s face hardened.
Then Aaron slid one more page across the table.
“There is another problem.”
I looked down.
It was a property filing.
Our apartment address appeared near the top.
Maya whispered, “What is that?”
Evelyn answered.
“A notice connected to a private lien.”
“For what?”
Aaron pointed to the amount.
One hundred eighty-six thousand dollars.
Maya stared at the number.
Then at me.
May you like
Mark had not been trying to save their apartment.
He had already found a way to gamble it.
