Chương 8
“You don’t have to apologize to me.”
“That wasn’t for you.”
I dried my hands.
She nodded as if that made perfect sense.
For several minutes neither of us spoke.
Then Patricia said, “He started betting after his father died.”
I turned.
She was looking at the window.
Daniel’s father had died six years earlier after a stroke.
I remembered Daniel disappearing into the garage during the funeral reception and staying there alone for nearly an hour.
When I found him, he had been sitting on an overturned paint bucket staring at basketball scores on his phone.
At the time, I thought he was hiding from grief.
Maybe he was.
“He used to call his father about every game,” Patricia said.
“Football, basketball, baseball.”
“They bet together?”
“No.”
She smiled faintly.
“Howard was too cheap.”
The smile disappeared.
“Daniel started putting ten dollars on games because he said it made watching feel less lonely.”
A ridiculous amount of sadness moved through me.
Ten dollars.
There was always a harmless beginning if you went back far enough.
“That doesn’t excuse this,” I said.
“I know.”
“I need you to know that.”
“I do.”
“No, Patricia.”
I faced her fully.
“You keep explaining him.”
She looked hurt.
Then defensive.
“I’m his mother.”
“I’m aware.”
“You were his wife.”
The word were hit hard.
Neither of us corrected it.
Patricia looked down.
“I suppose that was cruel.”
“It was accurate.”
She folded her hands.
“I spent his whole childhood fixing things before Howard found out.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Bad grades.”
“Tickets.”
“Money he lost.”
“Money he borrowed.”
She gave a tired shrug.
“Small things.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Until they weren’t.”
“Yes.”
Her answer was barely audible.
I thought of every time Daniel had called his mother when our marriage became uncomfortable.
Not to complain exactly.
Just to seek someone who already understood his version of events.
Someone who would smooth the edges.
Someone who had been smoothing them since he was twelve.
My phone buzzed.
I flinched so hard Patricia noticed.
It was not Daniel.
It was my supervisor, Nina.
The message asked whether I was coming in.
I had completely forgotten work.
I checked the time.
Ten forty-seven.
I was supposed to have been at the office at eight-thirty.
There were four missed calls and nine messages.
My body filled with a new kind of panic.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
“My job.”
I called Nina.
She answered on the first ring.
“Emily?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you safe?”
The question stopped me.
“Why are you asking that?”
“You texted at seven saying police were at your house.”
I stared at the screen.
I had no memory of sending it.
Then I found the message.
At 7:18, while Daniel was outside waiting for the officers, I had written, Family emergency, police are here, I’ll explain later.
Apparently I had been functional enough to protect my attendance record while believing I might be arrested.
“I’m safe.”
Nina exhaled.
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry I disappeared.”
“Don’t worry about today.”
“I have the Henderson review.”
“Malik took it.”
“Did he have the updated files?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about the vendor issue?”
“He does now.”
Her voice softened.
“Emily, stop working for five minutes.”
I almost laughed.
“That sounds irresponsible.”
“It’s incredibly annoying, isn’t it?”
The joke landed gently.
I pressed two fingers against my forehead.
“I may need tomorrow too.”
“Take tomorrow.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then decide tomorrow morning.”
That was Nina’s particular kindness.
She rarely asked for explanations when someone was too embarrassed to give one.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need anything?”
I looked at Patricia.
A seventy-one-year-old woman who had helped accuse me of theft was sitting at my table staring at a bruised apple.
“No.”
Then I changed my mind.
“Actually, could you tell Malik not to open the Henderson spreadsheet from Friday?”
There was a pause.
“Why?”
“I broke a formula and forgot to fix it.”
Nina laughed.
“There you are.”
For the first time all morning, I smiled.
After we hung up, I opened my banking app.
My accounts appeared normal.
The mortgage account appeared normal.
Our joint checking balance did not.
I stared at the number.
“What is it?” Patricia asked.
“Four thousand six hundred and twelve dollars.”
“What?”
“That’s what’s left.”
The account had held more than twelve thousand at the beginning of the month.
My paycheck had been redirected, but Daniel’s salary still went there.
I opened the transactions.
Three transfers I did not recognize appeared over the previous ten days.
Two thousand.
Twenty-five hundred.
Three thousand.
All to an external account labeled only with four digits.
My pulse accelerated.
I took screenshots, then stopped myself.
Hale had said preserve, not investigate.
I called the bank instead.
The representative verified my identity and froze outgoing transfers after I explained that I disputed recent activity.
She could not tell me who owned the external account.
She could tell me it had been linked using credentials from our joint profile.
After the call, I sat down.
Patricia watched me.
“How much?”
“Seven thousand five hundred.”
She closed her eyes.
“That’s almost everything.”
“No.”
I looked at the transfer dates.
“That’s almost everything he could reach.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time Daniel’s name appeared.
I did not answer.
A voicemail notification followed.
Then another text.
Please don’t freeze anything.
I stared at the words.
A second message arrived.
I can explain the transfers.
Then a third.
Emily, seriously, I need you to answer.
Patricia read my face.
“What is he saying?”
I turned the phone facedown.
“That he needs something.”
She gave a bitter little smile.
“When doesn’t he?”
The phone buzzed again.
This message was different.
If the transfer gets reversed, I’m in real trouble.
I read it twice.
Then I called Sergeant Hale.
Hale answered on the fourth ring.
“Sergeant Hale.”
“It’s Emily Carter.”
There was a brief rustle on his end, then his voice sharpened.
“What happened?”
“Daniel texted me.”
“Threatening?”
May you like
“No.”
I stared at the message again.
