Chapter 2
For several seconds, I forgot about the missing two thousand dollars.
I forgot Linda was standing in my hallway.
I forgot Ryan had just admitted he knew his mother was going through my things.
All I could see was the number.
$487,000.
The account was listed under my full legal name.
Sarah Elizabeth Carter.
My maiden name.
Not Sarah Miller.
Not the name I had used since marrying Ryan six years earlier.
Carter.
My hands started shaking.
“What is this?”
Ryan reached for the document again.
I pulled it against my chest.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Sarah, give me the paper.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t understand what you’re looking at.”
Linda folded her arms.
“She understands perfectly.”
Ryan glared at his mother.
“Stop talking.”
“No,” I said. “I want her to talk.”
Linda smiled.
That smile frightened me more than her stealing my cash.
“You really didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“That your grandfather died.”
My stomach tightened.
“My grandfather died twelve years ago.”
“Your other grandfather.”
I stared at her.
My mother’s father, George, had died when I was nineteen.
My father’s father, William Carter, was another story.
I had met him twice in my entire life.
My father walked out when I was nine.
After that, his entire side of the family disappeared with him.
I had stopped wondering about them years ago.
“What does William Carter have to do with this?”
“He died four months ago,” Ryan said.
I turned toward him.
“How do you know?”
His silence answered me.
I felt something cold crawl through my chest.
“How do you know?”
Ryan rubbed both hands over his face.
“A letter came.”
“What letter?”
“Certified mail.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You opened my mail?”
“It was addressed here.”
“It had my name on it.”
“We’re married.”
“That doesn’t make my mail yours.”
Linda scoffed.
“Oh, please. Married people don’t keep secrets.”
I looked at her purse on the floor.
“That’s interesting coming from a woman who was sneaking out of my bedroom with stolen cash.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
I turned back to Ryan.
“Where is the letter?”
“In my office.”
“You’ve had a letter for me for three weeks?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
Ryan hesitated.
Linda answered for him.
“After we figured out what you were planning to do with the money.”
I stared at them.
“We?”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“Mom.”
“No. She deserves to know now.”
Linda stepped closer.
“When Ryan saw the amount, naturally he was shocked.”
“Naturally?”
“Almost half a million dollars, Sarah.”
“It isn’t your money.”
“You’re his wife.”
“That still doesn’t make it yours.”
“Marriage means sharing.”
I actually laughed.
“Is that what you call taking money from my dresser?”
Linda’s eyes hardened.
“That cash came from this.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“How do we know?”
“Because I saved it from my paychecks.”
Ryan spoke quickly.
“Mom thought you had already accessed the account.”
“And you let her search our bedroom?”
“I told her not to.”
“You just said you told her to wait until tonight.”
He froze.
There it was.
The first crack.
I stepped closer.
“What was supposed to happen tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“Ryan.”
“Sarah—”
“What was supposed to happen tonight?”
Linda looked at him.
Ryan looked at the floor.
My heartbeat became painfully loud.
Then I remembered the account statement.
I unfolded it again.
There were several pages.
I had only looked at the first.
I turned to the second.
There was a law firm listed at the top.
Hale, Morrison & Price.
Beneath it was a phone number.
And beneath that were four words.
Beneficiary Verification Still Pending.
I looked at Ryan.
“You couldn’t get into it.”
He said nothing.
That silence was worse than a confession.
“You tried.”
“Sarah, I was protecting us.”
“From what?”
“From you making an emotional decision.”
My mouth fell open.
Linda spoke behind him.
“You were already hiding escape money.”
I turned so fast she stepped backward.
“What?”
She pointed at the envelope.
“Five thousand dollars. Hidden in your dresser. What exactly were you planning?”
My face burned.
I had never told Ryan about the apartment fund.
Not because I was cheating.
Not because I planned to disappear.
I saved it because every argument in our marriage ended the same way.
Ryan threatened to cancel my credit card.
Ryan reminded me the house had been purchased before our marriage.
Ryan reminded me his paycheck was bigger.
Ryan reminded me that if I left, I would “find out how expensive independence really was.”
So I had started saving.
Twenty dollars at a time.
Then fifty.
Then a hundred.
Until I had enough to survive if I needed to walk out.
“You searched until you found it,” I whispered.
Ryan’s face changed.
“Sarah—”
“You searched our room.”
“No.”
“Then how did Linda know?”
Neither of them spoke.
I stepped into our bedroom.
I suddenly saw everything differently.
A jewelry box slightly crooked.
A stack of old tax documents no longer perfectly aligned.
The drawer beside the bed not completely closed.
My closet door half an inch wider than I always left it.
They had searched everything.
I turned.
“How long?”
Ryan came into the room.
“Don’t make this bigger than it is.”
“How long have you been going through my things?”
“We were trying to understand why you were hiding money.”
“You found my money because you were looking for paperwork about the inheritance.”
He stopped.
That was answer enough.
I felt sick.
Linda followed us.
“Your grandfather left you nearly half a million dollars and you think your husband shouldn’t be concerned?”
“I didn’t know!”
She rolled her eyes.
“That’s convenient.”
I held up the document.
“It says verification pending. I haven’t even spoken to these people.”
Ryan finally raised his voice.
“Then why did you have five thousand dollars in cash?”
“Because I’ve been afraid I’d need to leave you!”
The words exploded out of me.
Silence.
Ryan stared at me.
Linda’s mouth opened.
I had never said it aloud before.
Not even to myself.
But now that the words existed, I couldn’t take them back.
Ryan’s face went red.
“You’ve been planning to leave me?”
“I’ve been planning to make sure I could survive if I had to.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“You lied to me.”
I looked at him in disbelief.
“You intercepted my mail, hid an inheritance from me, searched my room, and helped your mother steal five thousand dollars. And you’re accusing me of lying?”
“I didn’t help her steal.”
“Where’s the missing two thousand?”
Ryan looked at Linda.
Linda looked away.
I pointed at her.
“Where is it?”
“It’s gone.”
“For what?”
She didn’t answer.
I stepped toward her.
“For what?”
Ryan grabbed my arm.
I jerked away.
“Do not touch me.”
Linda finally spoke.
“We needed professional help.”
“What professional help?”
“A financial consultant.”
Ryan swore under his breath.
I stared at him.
“What consultant?”
“Mom got carried away.”
Linda snapped, “I was trying to help you.”
I turned toward Ryan.
“Help him do what?”
No answer.
I looked down at the papers again.
There was another sheet folded behind the account statement.
A photocopy.
My name was signed at the bottom.
Sarah Elizabeth Miller.
Except I hadn’t signed it.
At the top were the words:
DURABLE FINANCIAL POWER OF ATTORNEY.
And underneath my forged signature was the name of the person supposedly authorized to manage my finances.
Ryan Michael Miller.
My knees almost gave out.
“You forged my signature.”
Ryan went pale.
“It wasn’t finalized.”
“You forged my signature.”
“It was only a draft.”
Linda stepped forward.
“It was protection.”
I looked at her.
“Protection from what?”
“From you taking nearly half a million dollars and walking away.”
I could barely breathe.
“You stole two thousand dollars from me to pay someone to forge this?”
Linda didn’t deny it.
Ryan grabbed the paper.
This time I wasn’t fast enough.
He tore it in half.
Then again.
And again.
He threw the pieces onto the bed.
“There. It’s gone.”
I stared at him.
“You think tearing it up fixes this?”
“It was never filed.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’m telling you.”
“And you’ve been lying to me for three weeks.”
His voice dropped.
“Sarah, please.”
I suddenly remembered something.
The bank account.
The real account.
If they had paperwork, they might have already tried something.
I grabbed my phone.
Ryan’s eyes widened.
“Who are you calling?”
“The bank.”
He stepped toward me.
“Don’t.”
That one word told me everything.
I backed away.
“Why not?”
“Because we should talk first.”
“Why not, Ryan?”
“Sarah—”
“What did you do?”
I dialed the number printed on the statement.
Linda moved toward the stairs.
I blocked the doorway.
“You’re not leaving.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
“I’m not keeping you anywhere. But you’re not taking my money, either.”
She clutched her purse.
The bank’s automated system answered.
I pressed through the menu until a woman came on the line.
I gave her my name.
Then the account number.
There was a pause.
A long one.
“Ms. Carter,” she said, “before we continue, I need to transfer you to our fraud department.”
I stared at Ryan.
He looked terrified.
“Why?”
The woman’s voice became careful.
“Because an attempted transfer of seventy-five thousand dollars was submitted against this account this morning.”
My hand went numb.
“What?”
Ryan closed his eyes.
Linda whispered something I couldn’t hear.
The bank employee continued.
“The transaction was stopped because your beneficiary verification has not been completed.”
I looked directly at my husband.
“Who requested the transfer?”
“I’m unable to disclose everything until your identity is verified, but the request included a power of attorney document.”
I stopped breathing.
Ryan had lied again.
It wasn’t a draft.
It had been used.
“Freeze everything,” I said.
“Sarah,” Ryan whispered.
I held up my hand.
“Freeze the account. Put whatever fraud warning you can on it. Nobody moves a dollar.”
The employee began explaining the next steps.
I barely heard her.
I was watching the man I had slept beside for six years.
The man whose last name I carried.
The man who kissed me goodbye every morning.
The man who had apparently planned to steal seventy-five thousand dollars before I even knew the money existed.
When I ended the call, Ryan took one step toward me.
“I can explain.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“Sarah, please.”
“You’re going to explain.”
I picked up the three thousand dollars Linda hadn’t managed to spend.
May you like
“But not to me.”
Then I called the police.
