Dad stared at the papers.
“The second was four weeks later.”
He placed another page on top.
“The third was two weeks after that.”
Aunt Monica stepped closer.
“What are those?”
“Transfers.”
Dad looked at her.
She looked back at him.
Neither spoke.
Mr. Grant continued.
“Over the last eleven months, Hazel’s account transferred a total of eighty-seven thousand four hundred dollars to accounts controlled by members of this family.”
My stomach tightened.
Eighty-seven thousand.
The $30,000 at the airport suddenly seemed much smaller.
My father shook his head.
“Those were gifts.”
“No.”
He said it so quietly that Dad almost didn’t hear him.
“They were not documented as gifts.”
Mr. Grant pulled out another document.
“Three transfers were labeled as medical expenses.”
My mother crossed her arms.
“She had medical expenses.”
“Not these.”
He handed her the page.
“The hospital confirmed Hazel was not receiving treatment on those dates.”
My mother stopped breathing for a moment.
Aunt Monica whispered, “Maybe the bank made a mistake.”
“The bank didn’t make the transfers.”
Mr. Grant looked directly at her.
“You did.”
Her lips parted.
“I never—”
“You used Hazel’s online banking credentials.”
“I had permission.”
“To pay your utility bill?”
