“We were.”
“No. You were building an escape route.”
She flinched.
Mark leaned forward.
“Daniel, listen to me. Your mother and I have had problems for years. Things between us weren’t always what they seemed.”
I turned toward him.
“Don’t.”
He looked at me.
“Carol, you don’t know everything.”
“Then explain it.”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I reached for a folder beside my chair.
Inside were copies of the hotel charges, the messages, and the photographs from the evening I had followed him.
I placed them on the table.
Mark stared at the first page.
Jenna stopped crying long enough to look at the second.
Then Daniel put down his own folder.
He had brought the financial records showing the transfers from his shared savings account.
Jenna’s face changed.
“What is that?”
“You tell me,” Daniel said.
She stared at the pages.
“Where did you get these?”
