Chương 6
Alison felt anger rise.
Not explosive.
Something colder.
"Did you see me sign anything?"
Rachel looked uncomfortable.
"No."
"Did you speak to me?"
"No."
"Did anyone ask you to verify my identity?"
Rachel looked down.
"No."
The answer was enough.
Daniel took the folder.
"This woman was used as a delivery service."
Rachel's face tightened.
"I didn't know."
"I know."
Daniel's tone softened slightly.
"That's the problem."
After she left, Alison stood by the door long after it closed.
The house was quiet.
Abigail was asleep upstairs now.
Her mother had taken her to bed without anyone noticing.
The normal rhythm of the house continued around them.
A refrigerator humming.
A clock ticking.
A car passing outside.
Alison looked at the folder in Daniel's hands.
"He was already planning this."
Daniel nodded.
"Yes."
"And I didn't see it."
Daniel did not correct her this time.
He did not tell her not to blame herself.
He just said the truth.
"Now you do."
Alison looked toward the staircase where Abigail was sleeping.
For years, she had believed protecting her daughter meant keeping the family together.
She had believed a broken home was the worst thing that could happen to a child.
Now she wondered if a home built on fear was already broken.
Her phone lit up one more time.
A final message from Gregory appeared.
You should have come back when I gave you the chance.
Alison stared at it.
Then she turned the phone face down.
For the first time, she did not feel like she was waiting for his next move.
She was preparing for her own.
She was preparing for her own.
The next morning, Alison woke before anyone else.
For several seconds, she did not remember where she was.
The ceiling above her belonged to her childhood bedroom, not the house she had shared with Gregory.
The faded paint near the corner.
The small crack above the window.
The wooden shelf where she had once kept trophies she no longer owned.
Then she heard the quiet sounds downstairs.
A cabinet closing.
Water running.
Her mother's footsteps moving slowly across the kitchen floor.
Reality returned piece by piece.
The bus.
Abigail's hand around her arm.
The photograph.
The documents.
The signature that looked like hers but was not.
Alison sat up and checked her phone.
No new messages.
That almost frightened her more.
Silence from Gregory had never meant peace.
It usually meant he was choosing another way to apply pressure.
She dressed quietly and walked downstairs.
Her mother was making toast.
The ordinary routine felt strange after the previous day.
"You should still be sleeping," her mother said.
"I know."
"You never were good at resting."
Alison sat at the table.
"I don't think I know how."
Her mother placed a plate in front of her.
"Then maybe you learn."
Alison looked at the toast.
A year ago, she would have dismissed the comment as impossible.
There was always something to do.
Someone needed something.
Some problem needed solving.
But now she wondered how much of her exhaustion came from constantly trying to prevent conflict with someone who benefited from creating it.
Daniel arrived twenty minutes later with a laptop and a folder of his own notes.
He placed everything on the table.
"I called a friend."
Alison looked up.
"Who?"
"Someone who works with property disputes."
"Daniel."
"What?"
"I don't want you getting involved."
He stared at her.
"You called me yesterday because you needed help."
"I know."
"Then don't pretend you don't."
His tone was sharper than usual.
Not cruel.
Frustrated.
Alison looked down.
"I don't want everyone dragged into this because of me."
Daniel leaned back.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The thing you always do."
She frowned.
"What thing?"
"You make yourself the center of the damage."
The sentence annoyed her.
"That doesn't even make sense."
"It does."
He folded his arms.
"You think if something bad happens around you, the solution is for you to carry more of it so nobody else has to."
Alison opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because she wanted to argue.
Because she wanted to tell him he was wrong.
But the examples appeared too quickly.
The nights she stayed awake handling bills because Gregory was stressed.
The conversations where she apologized just to end them.
The times she told Abigail everything was fine before she even knew whether it was.
Her mother quietly sat beside her.
"Your brother is not saying you caused this."
"I know."
"He is saying you don't have to stand in the middle alone."
Alison nodded slowly.
She hated how difficult that was to accept.
Daniel opened his laptop.
"I searched through the documents you gave me."
"And?"
"Some things don't match."
He turned the screen toward her.
A spreadsheet was open.
"The house payments."
Alison leaned closer.
"What about them?"
"Some transfers happened from an account you didn't know about."
Her eyebrows pulled together.
"An account?"
"Yes."
"I don't have another account."
Daniel looked at her.
"Exactly."
A strange feeling moved through her.
Not surprise.
Not completely.
More like the final piece of a picture she had refused to look at.
"What account?"
"I don't know yet."
He closed the laptop.
"But I know this."
He tapped the folder.
"Yesterday was not the beginning."
The words sat heavily in the room.
Alison looked toward the stairs.
She lowered her voice.
"Abigail can't hear this."
Daniel nodded.
"I know."
That was the thing about family.
They did not always know how to fix your problems.
Sometimes they only knew how to stand beside you while you faced them.
And somehow that mattered.
Later that morning, Alison called her bank.
She expected frustration.
She expected complicated explanations.
She did not expect the woman on the phone to become quiet after checking her information.
"Mrs. Parker?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask when you last reviewed your account activity?"
Alison felt her chest tighten.
"I don't know."
May you like
The woman paused.
"Would you like me to walk you through recent transactions?"
