Chapter 3
Rebecca’s retreat sat at the end of a gravel drive, twenty minutes outside town.
The house was beautiful. Fresh white paint covered the porch, and warm light glowed through the windows. I could see why Rebecca had fought to keep it.
Sophie stopped beside my car and looked at the house.
“Can we go home?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She took a breath. “No. Let’s go in.”
Inside, I found my parents, Mark’s mother, and two cousins gathered in the dining room. Rebecca hurried toward us in a blue dress, her face bright with relief.
“Claire! Sophie! I’m so glad you came.”
She reached to hug Sophie. Sophie stepped back.
Rebecca’s smile faltered.
Mark came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of glasses. When he saw us, he put it down.
“We need to talk outside,” he said.
“We can talk here,” I answered.
Rebecca looked from him to me. “What happened?”
I watched her closely.
“Ask your brother what paid the bank on Friday.”
The room went quiet.
Mark’s mother pulled out a chair. “Claire, please.”
“Let him answer.”
Mark set the tray on the table. “Rebecca had a business emergency. I helped her.”
“With my college money,” Sophie said.
Rebecca blinked. “What?”
The shock on her face looked real. I had come prepared to hear a lie. I had not prepared myself to believe her.
Mark moved toward his sister. “I told you it came from our savings.”
“It did,” I said. “Sophie’s education savings.”
Rebecca gripped the back of a chair. “You told me Claire agreed.”
“I thought she would.”
“That isn’t what you said.” Rebecca’s voice shook. “You said you’d both decided to invest.”
My father stood. “How much money are we talking about?”
I took the printed transfer record from my bag and placed it on the table. I had printed one page at home. I didn’t need to pass my phone around while Mark tried to explain it away.
My father read the amount aloud.
Mark’s mother covered her mouth.
Sophie stared at the floor.
I had imagined Mark would be embarrassed. He was furious.
“You planned this,” he said to me.
“I asked you at home. You wouldn’t tell us the truth.”
He turned to the others. “The money isn’t lost. Rebecca has it in the property. She’ll pay it back.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Most of it went to the lender.”
“When can you return it?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you tonight.”
Mark spread his hands. “There. That’s why I was waiting.”
“You were waiting while Sophie’s room disappeared,” I said.
Rebecca looked at Sophie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Sophie raised her eyes. “Would you have taken it if you did?”
“No.”
Mark gave a hard laugh. “Easy to say now.”
Rebecca ignored him. She took the transfer page and looked at the destination account.
“That’s my business account,” she said. “But this isn’t the amount Mark told me he was sending.”
I felt a cold prickle along my arms.
“How much did he tell you?”
She named a figure thirty thousand dollars lower than the transfer.
Mark reached for the page. Rebecca pulled it away.
“I sent what you needed,” he said.
“You sent more than I asked for.”
“To cover your next payments.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “The lender received the amount I asked for. Where did the rest go?”
No one spoke.
Mark’s mother said his name softly.
He picked up his jacket. “I’m not going to be interrogated at my sister’s dinner.”
He headed for the front door.
Sophie moved before I could stop her. She stood in his path.
“Did you cancel my dorm because you needed my money for something else?”
He stopped. For a second, the anger left his face.
“I canceled it because I couldn’t replace the money in time.”
“Could you have replaced any of it?”
He looked away.
Sophie stepped aside. He left without answering.
The front door shut, and the house seemed to shrink around us.
Rebecca sat down. She told us about the lender’s notice, the deadline, and Mark’s offer. She showed me the amount deposited into her account. It matched the bank transfer.
The missing thirty thousand had not vanished before it reached her. It had left afterward.
“I authorized a payment to the lender,” Rebecca said. “And a contractor’s invoice. Mark said he would handle the bookkeeping until I hired someone.”
“Do you have access to the full account?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Yes. But I gave him access too.”
My father asked her to open it. Rebecca went to her office, with me beside her. She logged in while I stood back.
There were payments to Laurel Bridge Consulting.
The same company taking money from my household account.
Rebecca whispered, “I thought that was the marketing firm Mark found.”
“Have you met anyone from it?”
“No.”
We went back to the dining room. I wrote down the payment dates and amounts while Rebecca called the bank to protect her account.
Sophie sat with my mother. My mother was holding both her hands.
At last, Sophie looked up at me. “Is he coming home?”
“I don’t know.”
I hadn’t decided whether I wanted him to.
Rebecca put down her phone. Her bank had started reviewing the payments, but they could not tell her who owned Laurel Bridge Consulting that night.
“I owe Sophie an apology,” she said. “I owe you one too, Claire.”
“You didn’t cancel her room.”
“But I let Mark manage money I didn’t understand.”
I could hear how frightened she was. The retreat might still fail. Sophie might still lose her place. Neither problem could be solved by making Rebecca into the villain I had expected to find.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Mark appeared.
You embarrassed yourself tonight. Come home and we’ll talk when Sophie’s asleep.
I showed it to Sophie.
She read it, then handed the phone back.
“Can we stay with Grandma?” she asked.
My mother stood at once. “Of course you can.”
May you like
I took my car keys from the table. As we walked toward the door, Rebecca called my name.
“I’ll send you every invoice Mark gave me,” she said. “Whatever he’s been doing, I want to know too.”
