me because you’re emotional,” he said when I finally answered. “Mom already booked half the trip.”
“With whose card?”
Silence.
Then Vivian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Don’t interrogate your husband.”
I almost smiled.
That was the confirmation I needed.
The forty thousand dollars missing from our emergency account had not gone toward Daniel’s business.
It had paid for Vivian’s deposits—business-class tickets, private tours, luxury hotels—and several purchases Daniel had hidden as “client expenses.”
What neither of them seemed to remember was that our emergency account required dual authorization for
