“At least now you look humble.”
I stopped.
For a second, I considered saying everything I was thinking.
Then I remembered the mysterious bank account.
The credit card.
The unexplained transfers.
And I smiled.
“Good morning, Margaret.”
She looked surprised by my calmness.
“Did you make breakfast?”
“No.”
Her smile disappeared.
“You’re supposed to be learning.”
“I’ll make it tomorrow.”
“You said you were going to change.”
“I am.”
I picked up my purse.
She stared at me.
“Where are you going?”
“To work.”
Her face went pale.
“But you said—”
“I said I’d quit.”
“You’re supposed to do it this morning.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She stood up.
“Sofia.”
I turned.
She walked toward me.
“You promised.”
“I know.”
“So where are you going?”
I smiled.
“To resign.”
She seemed satisfied.
Then I walked out the front door.
The moment it closed behind me, I let out the breath I had been holding.
I didn’t drive directly to the office.
I drove to a coffee shop three blocks away.
I parked.
Opened my laptop.
And started researching.
The account number I had found belonged to a local financial institution.
The account holder’s name wasn’t immediately visible.
But I knew enough to start digging.
I pulled up every transaction from the previous twelve months.
The transfers were always made in amounts small enough not to attract attention.
$480.
$750.
$1,200.
$950.
Then suddenly—
$4,800.
I stared at the screen.
Four thousand eight hundred dollars.
I opened the transaction details.
The transfer had been made from a joint household account.
My account.
I checked the date.
It was the same week Nathan had told me he needed money to repair his car.
I remembered that week.
He had come into the kitchen looking worried.
“Baby, the mechanic says the transmission is worse than we thought.”
I had asked how much.
He told me $4,500.
I had transferred the money without hesitation.
Now I was looking at a transfer of $4,800.
To the mysterious account.
Not the mechanic.
Not the repair shop.
Somewhere else.
My stomach tightened.
I opened another transaction.
Same account.
Another payment.
I kept going.
The pattern continued.
For months.
Sometimes every two weeks.
Sometimes once a month.
Always hidden among dozens of ordinary household transactions.
Whoever owned that account had been receiving money from us for a long time.
I leaned back.
Then my phone rang.
It was my boss.
I stared at the screen.
For a moment, I considered ignoring it.
Then I answered.
“Hi, Daniel.”
There was silence on the other end.
Then his voice softened.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I had a difficult night.”
“I heard.”
My heart stopped.
“What did you hear?”
He hesitated.
“Your husband called the office early this morning.”
I sat up straight.
“He called you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me there was a family situation and that you might be resigning.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Nathan couldn’t wait.
He wanted everyone to believe the decision was mine.
Daniel continued.
“I told him I couldn’t discuss your employment with him.”
“Thank you.”
“And Sofia?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to resign.”
I swallowed.
“I know.”
“You earned that promotion.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you quitting?”
I looked through the coffee shop window at the traffic moving outside.
“I need to take care of something first.”
Daniel was quiet.
Then he said:
“Whatever happened, don’t make a permanent decision because you’re hurt.”
His words stayed with me.
“I won’t.”
We ended the call.
I closed my laptop.
Then I drove to the office.
When I entered the building, several people looked at me.
Their eyes went immediately to my head.
I expected whispers.
Instead, my assistant, Lily, ran toward me.
“Oh my God.”
She stopped herself.
“Sorry.”
I smiled.
“It’s okay.”
“What happened?”
“Long story.”
She looked at me carefully.
“Are you safe?”
That question almost broke me.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
She didn’t believe me.
But she didn’t push.
“Daniel wants to see you.”
“I figured.”
I walked into his office.
He stood when he saw me.
His expression changed.
“Sofia.”
“I’m okay.”
He pointed toward the chair.
“Sit.”
I sat.
