***
Two weeks before Brooke’s birthday, I met Hannah. She had something for me.
“There’s more. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me.”
“That wire you couldn’t trace. Family Holdings.”
I sat down on the edge of the café sofa. “You know who’s behind it.”
Hannah nodded. “Brooke.”
“How do you know?”
“You know who’s behind it.”
“She convinced Daniel to move your father’s inheritance there. She told him it was temporary.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“It was all hers.”
I stared at her. “How did you find that?”
“She came into the office with the paperwork. I recognized the company name. After she left, I looked it up. It was all in Brooke’s name.”
I leaned back against the sofa. “When did he sign?”
“A few months ago. Before the photo. Before any of it.”
I closed my eyes. The hotel sweatshirt, the late nights, the casual assignments at every dinner.
None of it had been the betrayal. It had only hidden the real one.
“When did he sign?”
***
The next morning, I spread months of lies across my dining room table.
Hotel receipts.
Bank transfers.
Conversations.
Every answer only led to another question.
Then I reached for Hannah’s envelope again. I read every page twice.
