“Exactly when?”
“Maybe two weeks before.”
“What did you
say?”
“I laughed. I thought he was joking.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel’s eyes slowly widened as the memory returned.
“He said, ‘Women like security.’”
Neither of us spoke.
I opened Mark’s financial folder.
We began going through statements.
Checking accounts looked normal.
Savings had less than I expected.
Retirement seemed untouched.
Then I found something.
A transfer.
$18,000.
Two months earlier.
To an account I didn’t recognize.
Another transfer.
$12,000.
Then $25,000.
“That’s fifty-five thousand dollars,” Daniel said.
“I can count.”
“Where did it go?”
“I don’t know.”
Three transfers.
Three months.
Almost exactly the duration of Daniel’s marriage.
My skin prickled.
Daniel leaned back.
“Do you think he’s paying her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or giving her money?”
“I don’t know.”
He stood.
“We need to ask him.”
“No.”
“Mom—”
“We need facts.”
“How?”
