Chương 4
“How much?”
“About two hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No.”
“He owns a successful business.”
“Yes.”
“He wouldn’t need my money.”
My father’s expression tightened slightly.
“People don’t always take money because they need it.”
The sentence bothered me because it sounded like something he had learned from experience.
I sat back down.
“Why Kelsey?”
“That’s what we need to determine.”
“You don’t know?”
My father shook his head.
“I know the transfer happened.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
He looked at the document.
“It isn’t.”
The honesty helped more than a confident answer would have.
For years, I had lived with people who acted certain even when they were wrong.
Evan.
Barbara.
Sometimes even myself.
Certainty had become another way people avoided admitting fear.
“What else did you find?” I asked.
My father opened another file.
“This.”
Inside was a printed email.
The sender was an accountant who had worked with Evan for several years.
The message was short.
It mentioned unusual transfers, pressure from Evan to move funds quickly, and a request to create paperwork that would make certain expenses appear connected to business development.
I read the email twice.
Then a third time.
“He was hiding money.”
“Possibly.”
“Dad.”
“I’m not saying more than we can prove.”
I looked at him.
“You sound like a lawyer.”
“I hired enough of them over the years to become one in my head.”
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
It felt strange.
Almost wrong.
My life had collapsed that morning, and yet I was sitting in my father’s office laughing at his terrible joke.
He smiled faintly.
It disappeared quickly.
“I’m sorry.”
The words caught me off guard.
My father apologized often for business mistakes.
Never for personal ones.
“For what?”
“For letting you believe you had to carry everything alone.”
I looked down.
The room became uncomfortable in the way only honest conversations could become uncomfortable.
“I didn’t tell you things because I didn’t want you to worry.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It’s because you think protecting people means keeping them away from the truth.”
My father looked at me.
And for once, he did not argue.
That hurt more than an argument would have.
A knock came at the door.
A woman stepped inside carrying a tablet.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair pulled back and a serious expression.
“Thomas, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
My father nodded.
“It’s fine.”
She looked at me.
“Claire.”
I recognized her after a moment.
“Rachel?”
Rachel Morgan had worked as my grandfather’s attorney before becoming one of the company’s outside legal advisors.
I remembered her from childhood.
She was the woman who gave me a birthday card every year because she said my grandfather would have been upset if nobody remembered.
“You’ve grown up,” she said.
I smiled slightly.
“Most people do.”
A small smile crossed her face.
“That’s still your grandfather’s sarcasm.”
I looked at my father.
“You told her?”
“Rachel already knows.”
“Knows what?”
Rachel placed the tablet on the desk.
“About Evan.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
That answer immediately irritated me.
“Everyone seems to know things except me.”
Rachel’s expression softened.
“Claire.”
“No.”
I held up a hand.
“I’m sorry, but I need people to stop telling me they were protecting me.”
Neither of them spoke.
Because they knew I was right.
Rachel nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
The fact that she did not defend herself made it harder to stay angry.
“I reviewed some of the divorce documents,” she said.
“And?”
“Evan’s attorney was unusually aggressive about limiting financial questions.”
“That happens.”
“Yes.”
She tapped the tablet.
“But what doesn’t usually happen is a person pushing for a fast settlement while simultaneously moving assets around.”
I looked between them.
“What does that mean?”
Rachel hesitated.
“It means Evan may have been preparing for something before the divorce.”
“Like what?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I hated that answer.
Not because it was wrong.
Because uncertainty was exhausting.
For eight months, I had lived with unanswered questions.
When did it start?
How long had he lied?
Did he ever love me?
Was I the only person who didn’t see it?
Now there were new questions.
Why was he moving money?
Why was he rushing the divorce?
Why was Kelsey involved financially?
My entire marriage had become a room full of locked doors.
Rachel picked up the document showing the transfer.
“There is something else.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Of course there is.”
My father looked almost guilty.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I opened my eyes.
“Keep going.”
Rachel turned the page.
“Kelsey received three transfers.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Rachel looked at the dates.
“The first was two months before Evan admitted the affair.”
The second was three weeks after.
The third was five days before he filed for divorce.
I stared at the dates.
The timeline felt wrong.
Not emotionally.
Logically.
Kelsey had always been presented as the woman Evan chose after our marriage fell apart.
But these records suggested something different.
“She knew.”
Neither Rachel nor my father answered.
They didn’t need to.
I could see the possibility forming between us.
Kelsey had not just been the person who appeared after my marriage ended.
She had been involved before the ending began.
I stood and walked toward the window.
The city looked exactly the same as it had ten minutes earlier.
That was the cruel thing about life.
A person could receive information that changed everything, and the world outside still continued as if nothing happened.
A bus stopped.
A man checked his watch.
A woman carried groceries across the street.
Nobody knew I had just learned that my husband’s betrayal might have started long before he confessed.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, I looked.
Evan.
I almost ignored it.
Then something stopped me.
Not forgiveness.
Not love.
Something else.
May you like
Curiosity.
I answered.
