Chapter 4
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My husband's name appeared beside a transfer of twenty-five thousand dollars from the foundation's emergency assistance account.
I looked at the date.
It was the same week I had asked him why our household savings had suddenly decreased.
He had told me his company was delaying a payment and that he needed to cover a temporary expense.
I had believed him.
“Dad, could this be a mistake?”
My father didn't answer immediately.
“It's possible. That's why we're going to verify the authorization records.”
Marcus Reed placed another document on the table.
“The transfer was initiated through a business account registered to Mr. Bennett. The approval field contains your name, Ms. Bennett.”
I felt as though the room had tilted.
My signature was easy to recognize. I had used it on countless documents for the foundation.
But I had never signed that authorization.
“Someone copied my signature.”
My father nodded.
“Then we need the original electronic audit trail.”
I stared at Marcus's name.
“Why would my husband take money from a fund meant for mothers and babies?”
Neither man answered.
My son stirred in my arms, and I forced myself to focus on his tiny face. He deserved a mother who could protect him without falling apart.
I kissed his forehead.
“I've got you,” I whispered.
The words were as much for me as for him.
My father asked the security officer to contact the foundation's independent finance director and request an immediate review.
He also instructed the hotel to preserve the event records without altering any files.
Then he looked at me.
“You don't have to decide what this means for your marriage tonight.”
“But I need to know what happened.”
“And you will.”
A short time later, Marcus arrived at the suite.
He looked exhausted. His tie hung loose, and his eyes moved nervously between me and my father.
“Can we talk privately?”
I shook my head.
“Not until you explain the transfer.”
His face changed.
“What transfer?”
My father placed the statement on the table.
Marcus glanced at it, then looked away.
“That money was borrowed.”
“From a charitable emergency fund?” I asked.
“I intended to replace it.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
I stared at him.
“You let me believe our savings were disappearing because of temporary business problems.”
“I was trying to handle it.”
“You used my signature.”
“I didn't forge anything!”
The room went silent.
Marcus realized what he had said and immediately tried to recover.
“I mean, Mom said the paperwork was already approved. She told me you knew about the arrangement.”
I felt cold all over.
“Your mother told you I had approved a transfer I had never seen?”
He rubbed his face.
“She said she was managing the event expenses. She said the foundation would be reimbursed.”
My father leaned forward.
“Did you personally receive the money?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where did it go?”
He looked at me.
“I had debts.”
“What debts?”
“Business expenses. A failed investment. Things I couldn't tell you about.”
I almost laughed, but there was no humor in me.
“You couldn't tell your wife you were in financial trouble, so you stole money from vulnerable families?”
“I didn't steal it!”
“Then call it what you want. Those families still don't have their money.”
His expression hardened.
“You don't understand how much pressure I've been under.”
I looked at the man I had married.
I remembered the promises we had made when we brought our son home. I remembered Marcus telling me that our child would never have to wonder whether his parents loved him.
Now I wondered whether I had ever truly known him.
“Did you know your mother planned to hit me?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was going to throw me out?”
“No.”
“Then why did you ask me to protect her from the consequences?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
My father remained calm.
“Marcus, the investigation will determine exactly what you did and what your mother did. If you cooperate honestly, that will be recorded. But nobody is going to interfere with the evidence.”
Marcus looked toward the door.
“You can't let this ruin my life.”
I felt tears gathering again.
“You should have thought about my life before you let your mother humiliate me and used my name to move money.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he asked the question that finally broke whatever hope I still had.
“Can we at least keep this out of the newspapers?”
I turned toward the window.
He wasn't asking whether I was all right.
He was asking whether people would find out.
“Please leave,” I said.
He stood motionless.
“Nia—”
“Leave.”
My father opened the door.
Marcus walked out without touching my hand or looking at our son.
When the door closed, I finally allowed myself to cry.
Not because I had lost a perfect marriage.
May you like
Because I had finally admitted that the marriage I was trying to save had already become a place where I was expected to carry everyone else's shame.
And I wasn't willing to do that anymore.
