PART 4
The next morning, I woke up before Julian.
That had become unusual.
For almost three years, I had learned to wake according to his schedule. If he worked late, I stayed awake. If he wanted breakfast early, I woke early. If he was angry, I learned to move quietly around the house.
But that morning, I woke at 5:11 a.m. with one thought repeating in my head.
The Camry wasn’t the real problem.
I lay perfectly still, staring at the ceiling.
Beside me, Julian was asleep.
His breathing was deep and steady.
He looked peaceful.
That was the strange thing about people who hurt you.
They didn’t always look cruel while they were doing it.
Sometimes they slept peacefully beside you after ruining your entire day.
I quietly slipped out of bed.
I walked downstairs, made coffee, and sat at the kitchen table with my laptop.
Then I opened the folder on my computer.
I had created it two weeks earlier.
I named it:
Household Records.
Nothing suspicious.
Nothing dramatic.
Inside were screenshots, bank statements, receipts, text messages, and photographs.
I opened the first spreadsheet.
My hands began to shake.
Not because I didn’t know the numbers.
Because I finally saw them together.
Three years of small withdrawals.
Small enough to ignore.
Large enough to destroy trust.
There was the $240 payment to Brenda’s utility company.
$680 for tires.
$1,200 for the water heater.
$450 for a medical bill.
$300 for groceries.
$175 for a church donation.
$900 for a credit card payment I had never authorized.
And then there were the larger transfers.
I had noticed those only recently.
$4,000.
$6,500.
$3,200.
$8,000.
All going into an account that didn’t belong to Brenda.
It belonged to a company.
I stared at the name.
Mercer Property Solutions LLC.
I searched my memory.
I had never heard of it.
I opened the registration information I had downloaded from the state’s public business database.
The listed manager was Brenda Mercer.
But there was another name.
Julian Mercer.
My husband.
I leaned back.
For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
Then I opened the bank records again.
The transfers weren’t random.
They were monthly.
Sometimes twice a month.
And they had been happening for almost eighteen months.
I whispered to myself.
“What are you doing?”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
I quickly closed the screen.
Julian appeared at the top of the stairs.
“You’re up early.”
I turned around.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
He walked into the kitchen.
His hair was messy, and he looked tired.
For a moment, he looked like the man I married.
The man who once held my hand at our wedding.
The man who promised to build a life with me.
Then I remembered the empty parking space.
I remembered the taxi.
I remembered him giving away something that wasn’t his.
And the feeling disappeared.
Julian poured coffee.
“Dad called me.”
I looked at him.
“When?”
“Last night.”
My heart tightened.
“What did he say?”
“He told me the car would be returned today.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
Julian stared at me.
“You’re not going to ask where it is?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you said it would be returned.”
“It will.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“Okay.”
He looked irritated by my calmness.
“You’re really going to act like this?”
“Like what?”
“Cold.”
I closed my laptop.
“I’ve spent years trying to make you comfortable. I’m tired.”
He stared at me.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Your father has no right to threaten my mother.”
“He didn’t threaten her.”
“He practically did.”
“He told her to return my property.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“You know what? Fine. The car will be back today.”
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“I need money.”
I almost laughed.
“For what?”
“Mom needs to rent a car.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He turned.
“She can’t get to work.”
“Then she can use a taxi.”
“She has appointments.”
“So do I.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“No, Julian.”
I stood.
“I’ve just finally stopped being convenient.”
He stared at me.
Then he left.
I waited until I heard the front door close.
Then I reopened the laptop.
Mercer Property Solutions.
I searched every document again.
The company had been established eleven months after our wedding.
Its purpose was listed as property management and consulting.
But there was something strange.
The company had almost no public presence.
No website.
No office address.
No employees listed.
And yet thousands of dollars were flowing into it every month.
I printed the documents.
Then I found something worse.
A transaction from our joint savings account.
$25,000.
I stared at it.
I knew that account.
It was the account Julian and I had been saving for a house.
