She stopped.
“For the first time, I’m paying attention.”
Her expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m looking at things I should have looked at years ago.”
She stared at me.
Then something strange happened.
Her confidence disappeared.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
“What things?”
I smiled.
“Financial things.”
Her face changed.
“You don’t understand our finances.”
“Apparently not.”
I walked upstairs.
She followed.
I entered our bedroom.
Nathan wasn’t there.
I opened his desk drawer.
Nothing.
Another drawer.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the small safe beneath the desk.
I had never seen it before.
My heart started pounding.
I tried the combination I knew he used for everything.
His birthday.
Nothing.
Our anniversary.
Nothing.
His mother’s birthday.
The lock clicked.
I froze.
The safe opened.
Inside were several envelopes.
A passport.
A small black notebook.
And a stack of bank statements.
I picked up the first statement.
The account was in Nathan’s name.
I read the balance.
Then I sat down.
There was more money in that account than I had in my personal savings.
A lot more.
I opened another statement.
Then another.
Money had been accumulating there for years.
My money.
Household money.
Money I thought was being used to keep our family afloat.
I turned another page.
Then I saw something that made my hands go numb.
There were monthly payments coming out of Nathan’s account.
The recipient was a company.
A property management company.
I recognized the address listed beneath it.
My stomach dropped.
I knew that address.
It belonged to an apartment building downtown.
An apartment I had once believed belonged to a friend of Nathan’s.
A friend he supposedly helped because the man was “going through a divorce.”
But the name on the lease wasn’t his friend’s.
It was Nathan’s.
I stared at the document.
He had been paying for an apartment.
For over a year.
Why?
Before I could process it, the bedroom door opened.
Nathan stood there.
He looked at the open safe.
Then at the papers in my hands.
His face went completely white.
“Sofia.”
I didn’t say anything.
He took one step forward.
“Put that down.”
I looked at him.
“Whose apartment is this?”
He didn’t answer.
“Why are you paying rent on an apartment downtown?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No.”
I held up the statement.
“It isn’t complicated.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Mom?”
Margaret appeared behind him.
She saw the papers.
Then she whispered:
“Oh no.”
That was when I knew.
Margaret knew.
Both of them knew.
I stood slowly.
“How long?”
Nathan looked at the floor.
“How long have you been paying for that apartment?”
He said nothing.
I stepped closer.
“How long, Nathan?”
“A year.”
“A year?”
“It isn’t what you think.”
I laughed.
“You don’t even know what I think.”
He looked terrified.
“You’re misunderstanding.”
“Then explain it.”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I held up another document.
“And what’s this?”
His eyes followed my hand.
It was a transfer confirmation.
A large one.
Made three months earlier.
From our joint account.
To a company I’d never heard of.
Nathan’s face changed.
Margaret stepped forward.
“Sofia, you need to calm down.”
I turned toward her.
“No.”
My voice was quiet.
“I’m done calming down.”
She stopped.
I looked at both of them.
“You shaved my head because you wanted me to quit my job.”
Neither answered.
“You told me I was selfish for working.”
Silence.
“You told me my career was destroying this family.”
Nothing.
Then I held up the bank statement.
“So tell me something.”
I looked directly at Nathan.
“If my career is destroying this family…”
I paused.
“…why has my money been paying for a secret apartment for the last twelve months?”
Nathan looked at his mother.
Margaret looked at him.
And in that single moment, I realized something terrifying.
They weren’t afraid of me discovering the apartment.
They were afraid of me discovering who was living in it.
