Chapter 8
Fifty thousand dollars.
I stared at the document Raymond placed in front of me.
My wife's name appeared beside the receiving account.
I recognized the bank.
But I didn't recognize the account number.
I looked at Raymond.
"Are you certain this is hers?"
He nodded.
"The records identify her as the account holder."
My stomach tightened.
"Did she tell investigators about it?"
"That's something her attorney will need to address."
I leaned back.
For weeks, Nia had insisted that Jasmine and Victor controlled the money.
She claimed she'd been misled.
She said she didn't know where the funds went.
Now fifty thousand dollars had been transferred directly into an account under her name.
I felt sick.
I wanted to call her immediately.
Demand an explanation.
Ask whether anything she'd told me had been true.
But Raymond stopped me.
"Derek, don't confront her about evidence connected to an active investigation."
I nodded.
He was right.
I needed to let the process work.
That evening, I went home.
The house felt enormous.
Nia had moved into a small apartment.
Her clothes were gone from the closet.
Her favorite candles were missing from the living room.
The kitchen was quiet.
For nine years, I'd walked through that house expecting to hear her voice.
Now I heard only the refrigerator humming.
I sat at the dining table.
The same table where she'd demanded more money for Jasmine.
I remembered how angry she'd been when I canceled the transfer.
At the time, I thought she was protecting her sister.
Now I wondered whether she was protecting something else.
I closed my eyes.
Then my phone rang.
Anthony.
I answered.
"Hey."
His voice sounded tired.
"Derek, I wanted to tell you something."
I sat upright.
"What?"
"Maya got accepted into her summer science program."
I smiled.
"That's great."
He sighed.
"Yeah."
I knew what he was thinking.
The program cost money.
Money he'd hoped to have available.
I swallowed.
"Are you going to be able to send her?"
He hesitated.
"We're working on it."
I looked down.
I wanted to fix the problem.
But I couldn't undo what happened with a single gesture.
Instead, I asked whether he'd explored the program's scholarship options.
He said he had.
Then I remembered a foundation that supported science education.
My company had donated construction services to one of its facilities.
I offered to connect him with their scholarship coordinator.
Anthony thanked me.
I made it clear I couldn't guarantee anything.
But I could help him find legitimate options.
That mattered.
I didn't want to make another promise based on hope alone.
A few days later, the foundation confirmed that Maya qualified for partial assistance.
Anthony called me crying.
"Man, thank you."
I felt my eyes sting.
"I'm glad it worked out."
He paused.
"Derek, I know this has been hard on you too."
I swallowed.
"Yeah."
He continued.
"I don't blame you for what happened."
I closed my eyes.
Those words meant more than he knew.
But I also understood that not everyone would feel the same.
Some investors were still angry.
Some had lost savings they couldn't easily replace.
And the investigation was far from finished.
Over the following months, the financial records revealed a clearer picture.
Jasmine and Victor had controlled most of the accounts receiving investor money.
They had used business names, presentations, and supposed property opportunities to attract funds.
Some money had been spent on personal expenses.
Some had been transferred between related accounts.
And some had been used to make small payments that created the appearance of investment returns.
Nia's involvement was also substantial.
She had helped solicit investors.
She had made false statements about my participation.
And she had received funds through her personal account.
But the investigators also found evidence that Jasmine and Victor had misrepresented certain matters to Nia.
The situation wasn't simple.
Different people had different levels of knowledge and responsibility.
The legal process would determine what could be proved.
Eventually, Jasmine and Victor were located.
They hadn't left the country.
They'd been staying in another state.
Investigators obtained records and interviewed them.
Formal charges followed in connection with the alleged financial fraud.
Nia was also charged with offenses relating to her role.
When I heard the news, I sat in silence.
I had expected to feel relieved.
Instead, I felt grief.
Not because accountability was wrong.
It was necessary.
But because the consequences were now real.
My wife.
My marriage.
Our future.
Everything had changed.
Several weeks later, Nia sent me a letter through our attorneys.
It was the first message she'd written without asking me to forgive her.
She admitted she'd lied about Jasmine's financial situation.
She acknowledged using my name without permission.
She admitted telling investors I was involved.
And she explained the fifty-thousand-dollar transfer.
According to her letter, Jasmine and Victor had described the payment as an advance against future profits.
Nia had accepted it.
She hadn't told me.
She had used part of it to pay personal expenses and moved the remainder into savings.
I read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
It didn't erase her wrongdoing.
But it answered questions I'd been carrying for months.
At the end, she wrote:
"I kept telling myself I was helping Jasmine. The truth is that I liked feeling important, and I liked believing we were about to become wealthy. I chose the story that made me feel good over the facts I should have checked.
I hurt people who trusted me.
I hurt you.
And I have no excuse."
I folded the letter.
For the first time, I felt as though Nia understood the difference between an explanation and an excuse.
But I wasn't ready to reconcile.
I didn't know whether I ever would be.
That evening, I called my family law attorney.
"I want to move forward with the divorce."
She asked whether I was certain.
I thought about the letter.
Our wedding.
The years we'd shared.
Then I thought about the forged loan and the people who'd lost money.
"Yes."
My voice shook.
"But yes."
I ended the call.
Then I sat alone for a long time.
I cried.
May you like
Not because I'd stopped loving Nia.
But because I'd finally accepted that love couldn't make her choices disappear.
