Chương 4
The first suspicious vendor was called Harrison Site Solutions.
The company appeared legitimate at first glance.
It had a business address.
It had a tax identification number.
It had invoices formatted professionally.
But when I checked the address, I found a problem.
The office belonged to a shared workspace that rented mailboxes.
That alone meant nothing.
Lots of small businesses used those services.
The problem was the phone number.
It matched a number connected to another vendor that had submitted invoices three months earlier.
Different company name.
Same contact information.
Same payment account.
I leaned back in my chair.
My father’s voice came back to me unexpectedly.
“People who are hiding something usually do not make one mistake.”
“They make the same mistake until someone notices.”
I rubbed my eyes.
I hated that he was right.
At five thirty, there was a knock on my door.
This time, I did not freeze.
I checked the hallway camera through the building app.
It was my friend Melissa.
I had not told her everything.
I had only said I needed somewhere safe and quiet.
She held a paper bag in one hand and looked uncomfortable when I opened the door.
“I brought food.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because Melissa always brought food when she did not know what else to do.
When my father died, she showed up with six containers of pasta because she said grief was easier if people were not hungry.
“I’m not very hungry,” I said.
“I know.”
She handed me the bag anyway.
“That has never stopped you from needing to eat.”
I stepped aside.
Melissa walked in and looked around the apartment.
She did not ask if I was okay.
I appreciated that.
Everyone always asked questions they wanted answered.
Are you okay?
What happened?
What are you going to do?
Sometimes those questions were really asking for a version of events that made them comfortable.
Melissa sat on the couch and opened the container.
“You look terrible.”
I smiled slightly.
“Thank you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
She looked down at the food.
Then she quietly said, “Ryan called me.”
My shoulders tightened.
“What did he say?”
“That you two had a fight.”
Only that?
She nodded.
“He said Linda lost her temper.”
I looked away.
“Of course he did.”
Melissa studied my face.
“Emma.”
I hated the concern in her voice.
Not because she was wrong.
Because I had spent so much time hiding the truth that being seen felt almost embarrassing.
“He hurt you too?”
The question was gentle.
I did not answer immediately.
That was enough.
Melissa put the container down.
“Oh my God.”
The room became silent.
“I went to the hospital.”
Her eyes filled with anger.
“Because of Linda?”
I nodded.
Melissa stood up and walked toward the window.
For a few seconds, she did nothing.
Then she whispered, “I knew something was wrong.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She turned around.
“Not this.”
She shook her head.
“I mean before.”
She sat back down.
“Every time you talked about his family, you sounded like you were apologizing.”
I swallowed.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does.”
She picked at a loose piece of plastic on the food container.
“You would say things like, ‘Linda is just stressed,’ or ‘Ryan is under pressure.’”
Her eyes met mine.
“You explained everyone except yourself.”
That sentence hurt because it was true.
I looked at the floor.
“I thought if I was patient enough, things would change.”
Melissa nodded slowly.
“That is a very expensive habit.”
“What?”
“Trying to earn basic respect.”
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Outside, someone in the parking lot was struggling to start an old car.
The engine turned over three times before finally catching.
A man shouted something from another apartment.
A dog barked.
Normal life continued around me.
That almost felt cruel.
The world did not stop when mine fell apart.
The next morning, Rachel asked me to meet her at her office.
Her firm occupied two floors of a building downtown.
Nothing about the place looked dramatic.
No intimidating furniture.
No walls covered with legal awards.
Just people carrying coffee, answering phones, and trying to get through another workday.
I liked that.
Real problems rarely happened in places that looked important.
Rachel greeted me with a folder.
“We have a problem.”
I sat down.
“What kind?”
“Not a legal problem yet.”
That worried me more.
She opened the folder.
“Ryan’s company has a line of credit with a bank.”
“I know.”
“Someone attempted to increase the limit yesterday.”
I frowned.
“Who can do that?”
“Depending on the agreement, several people.”
“Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“Linda?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the papers.
“Was it approved?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Rachel looked at me.
“Because the bank asked for updated financial statements.”
A cold feeling moved through my stomach.
“And?”
“And whoever submitted the request used outdated numbers.”
I understood immediately.
“They were trying to make the company look healthier than it is.”
Rachel nodded.
“Exactly.”
I looked at the folder.
The problem was no longer just money.
Money could be replaced.
A company could recover.
But if Linda had been hiding losses and moving funds around, Ryan’s entire business might collapse.
“Does Ryan know?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked down.
A part of me wanted him to know.
Another part of me wanted him to be innocent.
I hated that both feelings could exist at the same time.
Rachel tapped the folder lightly.
“There is something else.”
She removed a printed email.
“This was sent from your husband’s account six months ago.”
I read the message.
It was a short approval for a vendor payment.
My stomach tightened.
The signature was Ryan’s.
The wording sounded like him.
But something felt wrong.
“What?”
Rachel pointed to the bottom.
“The timestamp.”
I looked closer.
The email had been sent at 2:13 in the morning.
Ryan never worked at that hour.
May you like
Not unless something was wrong.
“Could someone else have access?”
