Chương 5
“I know.”
“And two days later his mother got twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“According to this ledger, yes.”
I pressed two fingers against my forehead.
The slap had created a clean kind of anger.
This was messier.
This reached backward.
It touched conversations I had trusted.
Numbers I had not questioned.
Stories I had believed because love made constant auditing feel obscene.
“Pull the rest,” I said.
“I already started.”
“Every contribution.”
“Yes.”
“Every loan.”
“Yes.”
“Every transfer between anything I own and anything connected to him.”
“That will take time.”
“Do it.”
I looked again at the irregular payments.
“Rachel, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Daniel thinks the house belongs to an investor.”
She was quiet for a second.
“I remember.”
“I never corrected him.”
“Why?”
I watched a bead of coffee slide down the inside of my cup.
“Because when we bought it, he was already embarrassed that my family had more money.”
“That is not a legal answer.”
“I know.”
“So what is the legal question?”
“Can I make him leave?”
Rachel’s tone changed immediately.
“Yes, but we do this correctly.”
“How correctly?”
“We verify occupancy rights, marital claims, any agreements, and local procedure.”
“He hit me.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t matter?”
“It matters a great deal.”
“Then why does this sound complicated?”
“Because complicated is better than reckless.”
I leaned back against the booth.
That answer annoyed me because it was right.
“I want him out.”
“I understand.”
“And Evelyn.”
“If she resides there, we verify her status too.”
“She doesn’t live there permanently.”
“Good.”
“She just acts like she does.”
Rachel ignored that.
“Do not change the locks tonight.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Do not remotely disable access.”
“I can do that?”
“You own the security account.”
I almost smiled.
“I had forgotten.”
“Forget it again for tonight.”
I rubbed my thumb over the small cut in my palm.
“What should I do?”
“Document your injury.”
“I took pictures.”
“Take more tonight and tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“If you want to report the assault, I can connect you with a criminal attorney or advocate, but the decision is yours.”
I looked at the front window.
My reflection stared back at me, cheek swollen, hair slightly disordered, coat still buttoned wrong from when I had left the house.
“I don’t know what I want yet.”
“That’s allowed.”
I hated how relieved those two words made me feel.
Then my phone vibrated against the table.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
Mrs. Carter, this is Noah Grant from Brooks Development.
I’m sorry to contact you directly, but I think you need to know Daniel asked accounting to delete records connected to your transfers.
For a second I thought I had misread the message.
I read it again.
Then a third time.
Rachel was still speaking, but her voice had become background noise.
“Emily?”
I lifted the phone closer.
“Someone from Daniel’s company just texted me.”
“Who?”
“Noah Grant.”
The typing on Rachel’s end stopped.
“What did he say?”
I read the message aloud.
Rachel did not react immediately.
“Do you know him?”
“Barely.”
I searched my memory for a face.
“He works in finance, I think.”
“Accounting?”
“Maybe controller’s office.”
“Do not call him.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Screenshot the message.”
I did.
“Now forward it to me.”
I forwarded it.
My pulse had started climbing again.
“What does he mean by delete records?”
“We do not know.”
“He said Daniel asked accounting.”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
“Ask him only that.”
I typed carefully.
When did he ask?
The reply came before I had time to put the phone down.
About twenty minutes ago.
Rachel said, “That matters.”
My mouth went dry.
Twenty minutes ago I had been speaking to Daniel on the phone.
He had asked where I was staying.
He had complained that I was making the fight bigger than it was.
And somewhere around the same time, he had apparently contacted accounting.
“Why would he do that?” I asked.
Rachel’s answer was immediate.
“I am not going to speculate.”
“I am.”
“That is your privilege.”
“He thinks I’m going to look.”
“That is one possibility.”
“He told me not to make this ugly.”
“Emily.”
“I know.”
“No conclusions yet.”
I stared at Noah’s message.
“Can he actually delete anything?”
“Maybe locally.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means systems vary.”
“Rachel.”
“It means a person can delete files they have access to, but that does not mean the records disappear from backups, emails, bank systems, audit logs, tax files, outside accountants, or counterparties.”
“So this could be incredibly stupid.”
“It could be.”
For the first time all afternoon, I felt something close to fear that had nothing to do with Daniel’s hand.
If he was panicking, I did not know what else he might do.
“Should Noah preserve copies?”
“Do not tell him to take documents.”
“Why not?”
“Because I do not know what he is authorized to access or remove.”
“He reached out to me.”
“That does not make him your employee.”
I pressed my lips together.
She was right again.
It was getting irritating.
“What can I say?”
“Ask whether he believes company records are at risk.”
I typed the question.
Noah took longer to answer this time.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then returned.
Finally, the message came.
Yes.
A second message followed.
I have not deleted anything.
Rachel said, “Good.”
Another message appeared.
I also told Daniel I would not.
I read it to her.
“Better.”
Then another.
He told me I could be replaced.
I sat very still.
The waitress walked past my table carrying a stack of plates and frowned at the untouched coffee.
“Everything okay, honey?”
I looked up at her.
“No.”
She nodded once.
“Okay.”
Then she kept walking.
For some reason that was more comforting than sympathy would have been.
Rachel said, “Ask Noah whether he is willing to speak with counsel.”
“Your counsel?”
May you like
“My firm can speak with him, but we need to be clear we do not represent him.”
I sent the message.
