Chương 7
I opened it.
The phone was there.
I stared at the screen.
Three missed calls.
Twenty-seven text messages.
Notifications from people who had been sitting downstairs less than ten minutes earlier.
I did not open any of them.
Instead I went to settings and changed my passcode.
Then I changed the password to my email.
Then my bank.
Then the cloud account connected to my photos.
Mom watched from the doorway.
"He knew your passwords?"
"Most of them."
Dad swore.
"Don't panic," I said.
He stared at me.
"You are wrapped in a tablecloth because your fiancé dumped paint over you at the altar, and you're telling me not to panic?"
"Fair."
I checked my banking app.
Our joint checking account showed a withdrawal from the previous day.
Eight thousand dollars.
For a few seconds I assumed I had misread it.
I refreshed the screen.
The number remained.
"Mom."
She crossed the room.
"What?"
I showed her.
Her hand went to her mouth.
Dad leaned over her shoulder.
"What am I looking at?"
"Eight thousand dollars is gone."
"From what?"
"Our wedding account."
"Who took it?"
I already knew.
There were only two authorized users.
Daniel and me.
The transaction showed an electronic transfer to an account ending in numbers I did not recognize.
I tapped for details.
The transfer had been initiated at 4:18 p.m. the previous afternoon.
"Can you reverse it?"
Dad asked.
"I don't know."
"Call the bank."
I did.
The automated menu asked me to describe my problem.
I said "fraud."
Then I stopped.
It was not fraud, technically.
Daniel was on the account.
I said "representative."
The machine misunderstood me three times.
Under any other circumstances, I would have found that funny.
When a woman finally answered, I sat at the vanity while she verified my identity.
I could see myself in the mirror.
Red hair.
Red face.
A tablecloth around my shoulders.
A diamond engagement ring still on my left hand.
I took the ring off while the representative explained that she could not simply reverse a transfer initiated by an authorized joint owner.
"Can I freeze the account?"
"We can restrict certain activity while the ownership status is reviewed."
"Do it."
"That may also limit your access."
"Do it."
She placed me on hold.
Soft instrumental music played.
My father paced.
Mom silently gathered my wallet and keys from the vanity as though preparing for an evacuation.
Luis waited in the hallway, giving us privacy.
When the bank representative returned, she said the restriction had been placed and recommended opening a new individual account immediately.
I thanked her.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
"Can the other account holder see that I called?"
"There will be a notice that account restrictions were applied."
"So yes."
"Yes."
Daniel would know.
Maybe he already did.
I ended the call.
A text arrived almost immediately.
Daniel.
You froze the account?
Another followed.
We need to talk before you make things worse.
Dad saw my face.
"What?"
I showed him.
He reached for the phone.
I pulled it back.
"No."
"I just want to respond."
"Absolutely not."
"I can be polite."
Mom laughed once.
Nobody believed him.
Daniel sent another message.
That money is mine.
Then another.
Don't involve your family in finances they don't understand.
Something in me settled.
Not calm.
Not strength.
A boundary.
I took screenshots.
Then I emailed them to myself and to a new address I created while sitting there.
Dad watched.
"Why the new email?"
"Because he knows the old one."
Mom placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Do you want us to call the police?"
I looked at myself again.
Paint had dried along my jaw.
One pearl from the necklace was stuck against my collarbone.
I had spent the previous night worrying that I might stumble over the words "for as long as we both shall live."
Now I was documenting financial transfers and changing passwords.
"Not yet."
Dad opened his mouth.
I held up a hand.
"Not because I'm protecting him."
He closed it.
"I need to know what he accessed."
Mom nodded slowly.
"What do you want to do first?"
That question almost broke me again.
Not what should we do.
Not what are you supposed to do.
What do you want.
I looked at the torn dress.
Then at the phone.
"Take me home."
Mom hesitated.
"Your apartment?"
I had called it home that morning.
Now the word felt dangerous.
"No."
I swallowed.
"Your house."
Dad picked up my bag.
"You don't have to ask."
"I wasn't."
"Good."
Luis stepped into the doorway.
"Anna."
He held his phone.
His expression had changed.
"What?"
"I think you need to see this before we leave."
He handed me the screen.
Someone had already posted a video.
It showed Daniel tearing my dress.
It showed the paint coming down.
It showed me standing there while he called me a cheap substitute for my sister.
The clip had been online for eleven minutes.
It already had more than eighteen thousand views.
The caption read, Groom exposes cheating bride at altar.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Luis.
"I didn't cheat."
"I know."
Below the video, strangers were already explaining my life to each other.
Some called me disgusting.
Some called Daniel a legend.
One person wrote that women like me deserved public consequences.
Another claimed Claire and I had both been sleeping with him.
A third said there was probably "way more to the story."
There was.
But not the version they wanted.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was Beth.
Please tell me you are not reading social media.
I stared at the message.
Then I typed back.
Too late.
Her reply came immediately.
Delete every app.
I almost smiled.
Then another notification appeared.
It was not from Daniel.
It was from my boss.
Anna, don't worry about Monday.
Take whatever time you need.
May you like
A second message followed.
Also, HR may contact you because people have started tagging the company.
