Chapter 5: The Money Nobody Mentioned
"How much?"" I asked again.
Daniel didn't answer.
I stepped closer until there was barely a foot between us.
"Tell me how much money my mother left in that account.""
He glanced at the guests, then at the cake, as though the birthday decorations might somehow rescue him from the question.
Finally, he said, "Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.""
The number seemed to hang in the air.
I stared at him.
"Two hundred and eighty thousand?""
"Approximately.""
"Approximately?"" Marcus repeated.
"You either know how much money was there, or you don't.""
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"The exact amount was two hundred and eighty-six thousand, four hundred dollars.""
My chair scraped backward as I took a step away from him.
My mother had worked for thirty years as an administrative manager at a medical office. She drove the same used sedan for nearly a decade, clipped coupons, and kept a jar of coins beside the washing machine.
She had never lived extravagantly.
But she had saved.
She used to tell me that money wasn't about being rich. It was about having enough to tell people no when they tried to make decisions for you.
"Why didn't I know about this account?"" I asked.
Daniel's shoulders sagged.
"Your mother asked me to help manage some of the paperwork after she became ill.""
"You weren't her son.""
"I was your husband.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
He looked down.
"She trusted me.""
I felt something cold settle inside my chest.
My mother had trusted me, too. She had taught me to balance a checkbook before I could drive. She had shown me how to read a contract and told me never to sign anything I hadn't understood.
Why would she leave hundreds of thousands of dollars in an account I knew nothing about?
I turned toward Denise.
"Did you know about this money?""
She shook her head.
"Your mother told me she had arranged something for you. She said the details were private, but she wanted you to have financial security.""
"And you never asked what that meant?""
"I thought it was insurance. Or a savings account.""
Megan let out an impatient breath.
"Can we please stop acting as though Daniel stole something? He was the person who actually handled the situation when everybody else was standing around doing nothing.""
I looked at her.
"Handled what situation?""
She folded her arms.
"The house needed repairs. Your mother's medical expenses were enormous. Daniel made sure everything was taken care of.""
"With my money?""
"With money from the account.""
I stared at her.
"How do you know what was in the account?""
Her expression faltered.
"Because Daniel told me.""
"Why would my husband tell you about my mother's money and not me?""
Megan lifted her chin.
"Because he needed someone to talk to.""
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You were my best friend. If he needed someone to talk to about my family, why didn't you come to me?""
She rolled her eyes.
"Because you never listen when people tell you things you don't want to hear.""
Marcus slapped his palm against the table.
"Stop blaming her for your choices.""
Megan turned toward him.
"Stay out of it!""
"No. You don't get to sit here and rewrite what happened while she's trying to understand why everybody around her has been keeping secrets.""
Daniel stepped between them.
"Enough. Both of you.""
I stared at my husband.
"You don't get to play peacemaker now.""
He turned toward me.
"Nia, I never intended for you to find out like this.""
"How did you intend for me to find out?""
He hesitated.
That hesitation was becoming a language I understood perfectly.
"Tomorrow," he finally said.
"At whatever meeting this envelope is about?""
He nodded reluctantly.
I looked at the sealed flap.
"What exactly happens tomorrow?""
Megan interrupted.
"You were supposed to meet with a financial adviser.""
"Who?""
She said nothing.
"Who is the financial adviser, Megan?""
Daniel answered quietly.
"Mr. Whitaker.""
I recognized the name.
A man who had attended one of Daniel's business dinners several years earlier. I remembered his expensive watch, his polished shoes, and the way he had complimented me before spending the rest of the evening talking to Daniel about investment opportunities.
"What does he have to do with my mother's account?""
Daniel took a long breath.
"He helped me understand the account's terms.""
"Why would you need help understanding an account that belongs to me?""
"Because the money wasn't structured the way you think.""
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
"Then tell me how it was structured.""
He looked at Megan.
She gave him a warning stare.
I turned toward her.
"Stop doing that.""
"Doing what?""
"Looking at him every time he's about to answer me. If you know something, say it. If you don't, stop trying to control what he says.""
Megan's lips pressed into a thin line.
Then she reached into her handbag and removed her phone.
"Fine.""
She tapped the screen several times before holding it toward me.
A photograph filled the display.
It showed a document on a desk, with a bank logo at the top and several lines of small print below it.
I couldn't read the details from where I stood.
But I recognized the signature at the bottom.
My mother's.
I took the phone.
"Where did you get this?""
"Daniel sent it to me.""
"When?""
"Three months ago.""
I looked up sharply.
Three months.
My husband had been sharing documents bearing my mother's signature with my best friend for three months.
I scrolled through the photographs.
There were several more.
A statement. A letter. A page with dates and account numbers.
Then I saw a transfer confirmation.
The amount was $94,000.
The recipient's name was partly visible, but the last four digits of the account number were clear.
I knew those digits.
They belonged to the joint checking account Daniel and I had opened shortly after our wedding.
I looked at him.
"Why did ninety-four thousand dollars come into our joint account?""
His face tightened.
"It was used to cover expenses.""
"What expenses?""
"Household expenses. Business expenses. Things we needed.""
"Did you ask me before using my inheritance?""
He stared at the table.
"Your mother trusted me to take care of you.""
"That isn't what I asked.""
"No," he whispered.
"I didn't ask.""
The admission was quiet.
But it changed everything.
Marcus moved closer to me.
"How much of the money is left?""
Daniel rubbed his palms together.
"I don't know the exact balance.""
I laughed in disbelief.
"You don't know?""
"The account was moved. There were investments. Some money was used for expenses. It's complicated.""
"Then show me the statements.""
"I can't do that here.""
"You've had six years to show me.""
He flinched.
For the first time, Megan looked uncertain rather than smug.
I handed her phone back.
Then I looked at the envelope in my hands.
"Whatever is in here, I want it reviewed by an attorney who has nothing to do with Daniel, Megan, or Mr. Whitaker.""
Daniel's head snapped up.
"You can't do that.""
"Watch me.""
"You don't understand what that will trigger.""
The room fell silent.
I stared at him.
"What will it trigger?""
He took a step toward me, his voice dropping.
"If you bring an outside attorney into this, the people involved will start protecting themselves. And when they do, you may lose more than money.""
"Is that a threat?""
"No!""
"Then what am I supposed to hear when you tell me not to find out where my own money went?""
He looked desperate now.
"I am trying to protect you.""
"From whom?""
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Renee rose from her chair.
"Mrs. Carter, may I suggest something? Keep those documents safe, don't sign anything under pressure, and make copies before you meet with anyone.""
Megan shot her a furious look.
"Nobody asked for your advice.""
Renee turned toward her.
"Then you should have kept your advice to yourself when you told her husband to humiliate her.""
Megan's expression twisted.
For one unguarded second, I saw the anger beneath the glamour.
"You think you're some kind of hero?"" she demanded.
"No," Renee replied.
"I think a woman deserves to know what she's being asked to sign.""
Megan snatched her handbag off the chair.
"Daniel, we're leaving.""
He didn't move.
"Daniel!""
He looked at her, then at me.
"I need to tell you something else," he said.
My heart thudded painfully.
"What?""
He leaned closer.
"The money wasn't the only thing your mother left you.""
Before I could ask what he meant, his phone vibrated on the table.
A new message appeared on the screen.
The sender's name was visible.
*MOM.*
Daniel grabbed the phone so quickly that it nearly fell to the floor.
I stared at him.
"Why is your mother texting you about my mother's money?""
He went rigid.
Megan's face turned white.
Then the phone vibrated again.
Daniel glanced at the new message, and the color drained from his face.
I reached for it.
He pulled it away.
"Don't, Nia.""
"Show me.""
"No.""
"Show me the message!""
He looked at me with terror in his eyes.
May you like
Then he whispered the words that made my entire body go cold.
"Your mother isn't the only person who knows what happened six years ago.""
