had not come entirely from Deborah.

Part of it came from a transfer out of an account I recognized.

Our joint household account.

He leaned closer.

His face drained of color.

“That’s impossible.”

It wasn’t.

Eighteen months earlier, shortly after Deborah moved in, twenty-eight thousand dollars had been transferred out.

I remembered the transaction.

Arthur had told me it was related to his mother’s townhouse closing.

I had been slammed at work and trusted him.

Arthur stared at the page.

“I didn’t authorize this.”

The HOA manager cleared his throat.