Brenda’s voice trembled.
“I saw you position your elbow.”
“You imagined it.”
“I baked that cake for six hours.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
Brenda’s face changed.
Clara moved between them.
Sabrina looked around the table.
Nobody was retreating.
Then she turned to Garrick.
“Tell them we’re leaving.”
Garrick stared at her.
“Are we?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I need the truth.”
“You have the truth.”
“No.”
He pointed at the transactions.
“I have numbers.”
Then he pointed at the gift letter.
“I have a fake signature.”
Finally, he looked directly at her.
“And I have a wife who lied about her income for months.”
Sabrina’s expression turned vicious.
“You think you’re innocent?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You lived here too.”
“I know.”
“You let your mother pay everything.”
“I know.”
“You wanted that condo.”
“I know.”
Each admission seemed to weaken her attack.
Garrick swallowed.
“But I did not authorize stealing from her.”
Sabrina laughed.
“You didn’t ask questions because you didn’t want answers.”
That one hit him.
I saw it.
Because it contained truth.
Garrick had not forged anything.
But he had enjoyed the benefits of not looking closely.
He lowered his eyes.
“You’re right about that.”
Sabrina stopped smiling.
Perhaps she expected denial.
Instead, Garrick looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology made my chest hurt.
I wanted it desperately.
I also knew it was insufficient.
“I don’t need sorry today.”
He nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
“I need space.”
He nodded again.
“I understand.”
“And I need both of you out of my house.”
Sabrina laughed.
“You can’t throw us onto the street.”
Raymond’s voice came through the phone.
“Elena will follow the legal process required.”
Sabrina glared at the speaker.
“We live here.”
“Correct.”
“This is our residence.”
“For now.”
Her face reddened.
Garrick whispered.
“Stop.”
She turned toward him.
“You’re letting them humiliate me.”
I almost laughed at the word.
Humiliate.
Yesterday, humiliation had been cake on concrete.
Today, accountability felt like humiliation only because Sabrina had never expected to experience it.
My phone rang.
The screen showed my bank.
Everyone looked at it.
I answered.
Denise’s voice came through.
“Mrs. Vance, we found something else.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“One of the disputed transfers was used to make a credit-card payment.”
I looked at Sabrina.
She stared back.
Denise continued.
“The card is associated with the same external-account holder.”
“How much?”
“Two thousand six hundred forty-three dollars.”
I almost smiled.
Yesterday, Sabrina had announced her handbag cost nearly twenty-five hundred dollars.
The numbers were close enough to make my skin crawl.
“When was the payment?”
Denise gave me the date.
Three days before Sabrina bought the purse.
I looked toward the patio.
The blackened remains still sat inside the fire pit.
Sabrina followed my gaze.
Her face changed.
I understood before anyone spoke.
I had not burned Sabrina’s $2,500 purse.
I had burned the purse she apparently bought using money taken from me.
For the first time since this nightmare began, Clara started laughing.
It was not polite laughter.
It was loud, shocked, almost hysterical laughter.
Brenda covered her mouth.
Even Garrick stared toward the patio with disbelief.
Sabrina looked furious.
“You think this is funny?”
Clara wiped her eyes.
“Elena bought herself one hell of a birthday candle.”
“Shut up!”
Sabrina grabbed her handbag from the counter.
Not the burned one.
Another one.
I had never noticed how many expensive bags she owned.
Now I wondered how many I had unknowingly purchased.
Sabrina marched toward the front door.
Garrick stood.
“Where are you going?”
“A hotel.”
“With what money?”
She stopped.
The question hung in the room.
Nobody spoke.
Sabrina turned slowly.
Her face looked different without the smirk.
Harder.
“You’ll regret this.”
She was looking at me.
I met her gaze.
“No.”
My voice surprised even me.
“I regret the last year.”
She opened the door.
Then she paused.
“You burned my property.”
I nodded.
“And I’ll answer for what I did.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
I pointed toward the bank statements.
“Will you?”
She left without answering.
The front door slammed hard enough to shake the glass.
Nobody moved.
Then Garrick sat down.
He covered his face with both hands.
“Mom.”
I waited.
“I think there’s something else.”
My stomach twisted.
“What?”
He looked toward the staircase.
“Sabrina keeps a locked document case in our closet.”
Clara stopped smiling.
“What kind of documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
He looked ashamed.
“She said they were condo papers.”
I stared at my son.
“Open it.”
Garrick shook his head.
“I don’t know the code.”
Brenda spoke quietly.
“Does Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
Clara reached for her phone.
“Then don’t touch it.”
She looked at me.
“Let Raymond decide what happens next.”
For once, Garrick did not argue.
Neither did I.
Raymond instructed us to photograph the case where it sat and leave it alone.
Then he said something unexpected.
“Check Elena’s mail.”
I frowned.
“My mail?”
“People committing financial fraud often intercept notices.”
Garrick looked sick again.
Sabrina collected the mail almost every day.
She said the walk to the mailbox helped her reach her fitness goals.
Clara and I went outside.
The mailbox was empty.
Then Garrick remembered something.
“She has a mail organizer in the garage.”
We followed him.
Behind boxes of bottled water and cleaning supplies sat a white plastic bin.
Sabrina had labeled it HOUSEHOLD.
Inside were advertisements.
Utility notices.
Insurance letters.
And three envelopes addressed to me.
All three had already been opened.
One came from my bank.
One came from a credit monitoring service.
One came from the county regarding a property-record request.
My hands started shaking again.
Clara touched my back.
“Elena?”
“I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not.”
She was right.
So I corrected myself.
“I’m standing.”
That was enough.
We photographed everything.
Then I found one final envelope.
It was addressed to Garrick.
He opened it.
His face collapsed.
“What?”
I asked.
