Brandon’s voice boomed through the hallway, filled with a rage I’d never heard before.
“Where is my money?”
I was in my pajamas, having just finished processing everything the girls had told me. Libby and Natty were supposedly asleep upstairs, but I knew they were probably listening to every word. Brandon stormed into the living room, his face red and his hair disheveled. His usually perfect appearance was completely destroyed. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie was missing, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“What money?” I asked calmly, though my heart was pounding.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at me. “The account is empty. Every penny is gone.”
I stood up slowly, meeting his furious gaze with a steadiness that surprised even me.
“You mean the money you stole from our daughters’ college fund?”
His face went pale.
“How did you—”
“How did I find out about Jessica?” I finished for him. “About your plan to abandon your family and start a new life in Florida. About the house you put a deposit on in Tampa.”
Brandon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.
“Claire, I can explain.”
“Explain what?” I asked, my voice getting stronger with each word. “Explain how you’ve been lying to me for 8 months. Explain how you were planning to steal our daughters’ futures. Explain how you called me boring and predictable to your mistress.”
“You don’t understand,” he said desperately. “Jessica and I, we have something special, something real. You and I, we’ve been living like roommates for years.”
The audacity of his words hit me like a physical blow.
“So you decided to solve that problem by stealing from our children?”
“The girls are smart,” he said, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. “They’ll get scholarships. They don’t need that money as much as Jessica and I need a fresh start.”
I stared at this man I’d been married to for 20 years. And I realized I didn’t recognize him at all.
“Where have you been tonight, Brandon?”
His face crumpled.
“Everything’s falling apart, Claire. Mr. Patterson fired me today. He said I was using company resources for personal business and that I was a liability to the company.”
“And Jessica?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“She won’t return my calls,” he admitted, slumping into a chair. “Her boyfriend found out about us and caused a scene at her office. She’s blaming me for ruining her life.”
I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“So let me get this straight,” I said, crossing my arms. “You lost your job. Your mistress dumped you. And now you’ve come crawling back home expecting sympathy.”
“I made mistakes,” he said, looking up at me with desperate eyes. “But we can work through this. We can go to counseling. I’ll make it up to you and the girls.”
“With what money?” I asked pointedly. “You stole everything we had.”
