Chapter 2: The Money Behind the Perfect Family
I didn't sleep that night.
At 6:17 the following morning, Daniel Reeves called me.
I was sitting in a small hotel room outside town. Noah was still asleep beneath a pile of blankets, and Lily was watching cartoons with the volume turned almost completely down.
I stepped into the hallway.
"Daniel?""
"Emily, have you looked at the statements I sent?""
"Yes. Who owns that account?""
"Nathan is the named account holder. But the funding trail leads back to the joint property account.""
"How much?""
"One hundred eighty-six thousand, four hundred dollars.""
I closed my eyes.
"That's not possible.""
"I checked it twice.""
"That account was supposed to cover property expenses.""
"That's what the records indicate.""
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
"Why was Brielle receiving money?""
"That's what we're investigating.""
Daniel paused.
Then he said something that made me stop breathing.
"Emily, there are monthly transfers going back almost two years.""
"Two years?""
"Yes.""
I looked through the hotel window.
Cars moved along the wet road. People were going to work, buying coffee, taking their children to school.
The world was behaving normally.
Mine had just split open.
"How much did she receive?"" I asked.
"Approximately sixty-two thousand dollars directly. There are additional payments to businesses connected to her.""
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I suddenly remembered all the times Nathan had told me we couldn't afford a family vacation.
All the times he had complained about rising insurance premiums.
All the times he had asked me to postpone replacing my car because the house needed repairs.
"Daniel, I need you to tell me something.""
"Go ahead.""
"Did Nathan know I was paying those expenses?""
"Emily, his emails are in the file. He approved the transfers and repeatedly acknowledged your contributions.""
I looked down at my phone.
A new message had appeared.
*Nathan: We need to talk privately. Don't involve lawyers.*
I showed Daniel.
He sighed.
"Don't meet him alone.""
"Wasn't planning to.""
"Good. There's another issue. The account may have been used to make payments connected to a second property.""
I frowned.
"What second property?""
"I don't know yet. The records show payments to a property management company in another county.""
My stomach tightened.
"Could it be Brielle's apartment?""
"Possibly.""
I ended the call after Daniel promised to investigate.
When I returned to the room, Noah was awake.
"Mom?""
"Yes, sweetheart?""
"Are we going back to the house?""
I sat beside him.
"Not right now.""
"Because Dad doesn't want us?""
The question cut straight through me.
I took his hands.
"Your father loves you. Whatever happens between adults, that isn't your fault.""
"But he didn't come after us.""
I had no answer that wouldn't hurt him more.
So I kissed his forehead.
"Let's get breakfast.""
At eleven, I received another call.
This time, it was Patricia.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
"Hello?""
"Emily, where are you?""
"Good morning to you too, Patricia.""
"This is not the time for sarcasm.""
"Then why are you calling?""
She lowered her voice.
"Your husband has been up all night. The bank has restricted access to the family account, and the house manager says some payments have been stopped.""
I leaned against the hotel desk.
"That's interesting.""
"Don't be childish. Nathan needs access to his money.""
"Which money?""
"The money you froze.""
"Did you ask him where it went?""
There was a brief silence.
Then Patricia said, "I don't appreciate your insinuations.""
"Neither do I appreciate your family allowing Brielle to slap me.""
"Emily, please. We all know Brielle can be emotional.""
"She is twenty-nine years old.""
"She's going through a difficult time.""
"So am I.""
Patricia made an impatient noise.
"Listen carefully. Nathan has always been generous with you. He gave you a beautiful home, a comfortable life, and two wonderful children.""
I looked at the ceiling.
There it was.
The family version of history.
Nathan had given me everything.
I had contributed nothing.
"Patricia," I said, "who paid the property taxes last year?""
She didn't answer.
"Who paid for the roof?""
Silence.
"Who covered the heating repairs when Nathan's father died?""
"That is not relevant.""
"Who paid the insurance premiums?""
"Emily—"
"And who transferred sixty-two thousand dollars to Brielle?""
The silence became absolute.
Then Patricia whispered, "What?""
I straightened.
"You heard me.""
"Where did you get that information?""
I almost laughed.
That was her concern.
Not that her son might have stolen money.
Not that her granddaughter's aunt had received thousands of dollars from a family account.
Only that I knew.
"Ask Nathan," I said.
I ended the call.
At 2:30 that afternoon, Daniel sent me a folder containing the property records.
The second property was a two-bedroom townhouse in a quiet residential neighborhood.
Purchased eighteen months earlier.
The buyer's name was a limited liability company.
The registered manager?
Brielle.
The purchase deposit had come from the same account Nathan had been using for property expenses.
I opened the transaction history.
There were monthly payments for furniture, utilities, maintenance, and a luxury vehicle.
Then I found something else.
A document attached to the original transfer.
It was an application for a mortgage.
The applicant had listed Nathan as the guarantor.
The source of income was described as rental revenue from a property he did not own.
My hands began to tremble.
I called Daniel.
"Why would he guarantee a mortgage for Brielle?""
"I can't answer that yet.""
"Could he be living there?""
"That's possible.""
I looked at the purchase date.
Eighteen months.
For eighteen months, Nathan had been telling me he was working late.
For eighteen months, he had claimed that his mother needed help with medical appointments.
For eighteen months, I had believed him.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Brielle.
*You need to stop acting like a victim. Nathan told me everything.*
I stared at it.
Another message appeared.
*You don't own that house, Emily. You were lucky his family let you live there.*
I took a screenshot and forwarded it to Daniel.
Then I typed one sentence.
*Ask her why Nathan bought her a townhouse.*
I didn't expect a response.
But it arrived almost immediately.
*Because he loves me.*
I felt the room tilt.
I read it again.
Then another message appeared.
*And because we're having a baby.*
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
Not the television.
Not the traffic.
Not Lily asking Noah for a biscuit.
I read the sentence a third time.
Then my phone rang.
Brielle.
I answered without speaking.
"Well?"" she said.
Her voice was light, almost cheerful.
"Did you finally understand?""
I gripped the edge of the desk.
"You're pregnant?""
"Four months.""
"And Nathan is the father?""
She laughed softly.
"Obviously.""
I closed my eyes.
"Does Patricia know?""
"She was the first person I told.""
Of course she was.
I remembered Patricia smiling across the anniversary table.
I remembered her watching Brielle sit beside my husband.
I remembered her telling me not to ruin the evening.
"How long has this been going on?"" I asked.
"Long enough.""
"Did you slap me because you were jealous?""
Brielle's voice hardened.
"I slapped you because you think everything belongs to you.""
I looked at the children.
Noah was helping Lily with her coloring book.
They were seven and ten.
They deserved a world where adults behaved like adults.
I lowered my voice.
"Listen carefully, Brielle. I don't care what you and Nathan have done. But you will never use my children to justify what you've done to me.""
She laughed.
"Your children? Nathan will always have a say in their lives.""
"Yes. He's their father.""
"And his family will make sure he gets what he deserves.""
I ended the call.
A moment later, Daniel called again.
"Emily, I need you to come to my office tomorrow morning.""
"Why?""
"Because I found something in the original trust agreement.""
"What?""
"Your contributions weren't simply treated as household expenses.""
I sat down slowly.
"What does that mean?""
"It means the family signed an agreement acknowledging your financial interest in the property.""
I stared at the phone.
"Who signed it?""
"Patricia. Nathan. And the family trustee.""
"Why didn't anyone tell me?""
"Because the agreement was never filed with the public property records.""
Daniel paused.
"Emily, there's something else.""
"What?""
"Your husband has been trying to transfer the house into a different trust.""
May you like
"When?""
"Tomorrow morning.""
