Chương 6
There it was.
Not theft exactly.
Not in the legal sense.
Something smaller and uglier.
A lie allowed to live because correcting it would have made him look dependent.
“You let her think it was your money.”
“Mari.”
“For three years.”
“I was embarrassed.”
I laughed once.
“About earning less than your wife?”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“It sounds painfully simple.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like in my family.”
“No, I understand much more now.”
He went quiet.
I regretted the cruelty almost immediately.
Not enough to take it back.
Finally, Daniel said, “Aaron always made more.”
“Until he didn’t.”
“Before that too.”
“What does that mean?”
“He was always the one Mom bragged about.”
I sat again.
Daniel rarely talked about Aaron before adulthood.
Whenever I asked, he made jokes.
Aaron was the golden boy.
Daniel was the one who got detention for drawing cartoons of teachers.
That had been the entire history.
“Mom thought Aaron knew how to handle money,” he continued.
“She thought I was careless.”
“Were you?”
“Sometimes.”
“So you wanted her to think you were supporting her.”
“Yes.”
“And when Aaron started failing?”
“I thought if I helped him, he’d get back on his feet.”
“And then everyone could keep believing the same story.”
His voice dropped.
“Yes.”
That answer hurt more than the defensive ones.
Because it was honest.
I pressed my fingers to my eyes.
“Daniel, you lied to me so your mother would respect you.”
“I know.”
“You used my money to do it.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still at her house trying to rescue everybody.”
He took a breath.
“I don’t know how not to.”
I had no answer for that.
For the first time all evening, I felt something besides anger.
Not forgiveness.
Not even sympathy exactly.
Recognition.
I had spent three years doing the same thing from the other side.
Maybe different motives.
Same machinery.
“I’m going to send you something,” I said.
“What?”
“The transaction list.”
“Mari, you don’t have to—”
“I know.”
I emailed him the pages Robert had prepared.
“Look at every payment that went into Theresa’s account and every payment that left within forty-eight hours.”
“What am I looking for?”
“A pattern.”
He was silent for a while.
I could hear Theresa speaking somewhere in the background.
Then a cabinet door closed.
A minute later, Daniel said, “Oh.”
“What?”
“There’s one.”
“What date?”
“May third.”
I found it.
I had transferred twenty-five hundred dollars to cover what Daniel said was an air-conditioning repair.
The next day, Theresa sent twenty-four hundred to Lauren.
“Another,” he said.
“June nineteenth.”
I found that too.
Three thousand from me.
Twenty-eight hundred from Theresa to Lauren.
The pattern continued.
Not every time.
Enough.
“How long?” Daniel whispered.
“That’s what we need to find out.”
He went quiet.
Then Theresa’s voice became louder in the background.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel did not answer her.
“Daniel?”
He must have switched to speaker because her voice suddenly filled my kitchen.
“Mariana?”
“Yes.”
“What is he looking at?”
“Payments.”
“What payments?”
“Money sent from your account to Lauren.”
There was a pause.
“I gave Lauren money sometimes.”
“Why?”
“To help with household things.”
“Which household things?”
“I don’t remember every little expense.”
The phrase sounded familiar.
Daniel had used almost the same wording the night before.
Families had inherited expressions the way they inherited eye color.
I looked down at the transaction list.
“On May fourth, you sent Lauren twenty-four hundred dollars.”
Theresa was quiet.
“Do you remember that?”
“No.”
“The day before, I sent money for your air conditioner.”
Another silence.
Then she said, “The air conditioner was repaired.”
“How much did it cost?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have the invoice?”
“Somewhere.”
Daniel spoke.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“The repair was six hundred eighty dollars.”
I heard a drawer open.
Then another.
Theresa’s voice became defensive.
“Well, then perhaps I used the rest for something else.”
“You sent it to Lauren.”
“I helped Lauren.”
“With what?”
“She was having problems.”
“What problems?”
Theresa stopped moving.
Daniel’s voice changed.
“Mom.”
“She and Aaron were struggling.”
“You knew?”
“Not everything.”
“How much did you know?”
“I knew enough.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Did you know Aaron was borrowing against the house?”
“No.”
“Did you know Lauren had debt?”
“I knew she had credit cards.”
“Ninety-six thousand dollars?”
Theresa inhaled sharply.
“No.”
That reaction sounded real.
Daniel apparently thought so too.
“Mom, did Lauren ever ask you to sign anything?”
“She asked me for copies of some documents.”
“What documents?”
“Property tax statements.”
“Why?”
“She said they needed them for insurance.”
Daniel swore quietly.
“Anything else?”
“My driver’s license.”
I straightened.
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Why did she need your license?”
“She said the insurance company needed identification because the house was still in my name.”
Daniel’s voice went flat.
“Did you give it to her?”
“Yes.”
“Front and back?”
Theresa did not answer.
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
Daniel said something under his breath I couldn’t make out.
I opened my laptop.
“Ask her whether Lauren ever had access to her email.”
Theresa answered before Daniel could repeat it.
“She helped me set up the account on my new phone.”
“Does she know your password?”
“I changed it.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Before or after the loan?”
Theresa hesitated.
“After.”
I looked at the loan document again.
The private lender had likely required more than a signature.
Income information.
Identification.
Property records.
Maybe electronic acknowledgments.
This was no longer a simple forged-name story.
If Lauren had created an entire application around Theresa’s identity, she had needed access.
If Theresa had participated and was now denying it, there would be records.
Either way, guessing would not help.
“Theresa,” I said, “tomorrow morning you need an attorney.”
“I can’t afford an attorney.”
I nearly laughed.
That sentence, after everything, almost pushed me over the edge.
Instead, I said, “Then call the state bar referral service and ask for options.”
“Can’t Robert look at it?”
“No.”
May you like
“Why not?”
“Because he’s an accountant.”
