The doctors expected a long recovery, but they were optimistic.

Martha texted me that evening.

He keeps asking for you.

I stared at the message.

Then another appeared.

Paige has gone home with Matty.

I didn’t respond.

For the next three days, I divided my time between the hospital, my office and Finch Development.

Alistair was still heavily medicated, so we barely spoke. The first time he was alert enough to recognize me, he reached toward my hand.

“Jackie.”

I stepped closer.

“I’m here.”

He swallowed.

“I can explain.”

“Not yet.”

His eyes stayed on mine.

“Paige—”

“Not yet, Alistair.”

I adjusted the water cup beside his bed and left.

At the company, Daniel and I brought in the outside accountant who already handled the firm’s annual reviews. I didn’t want ten investigators and a room full of strangers. I wanted one person to tell me whether I was misunderstanding the numbers.

I wasn’t.

Over several years, more than eighteen million dollars had moved through accounts Alistair controlled into expenses that had little or nothing to do with legitimate company operations.

Not all of it had gone to Paige.

That would almost have been simpler.

Some paid for her housing.

Some covered vehicles and travel.

Some went through intermediary vendors.

And there were recurring payments connected to Martha and George.

I put one page on the conference table.

“What is this?”

The accountant tapped the line with his pen.

“A transfer.”

“To his parents?”

“It appears so.”

“Company purpose?”

He looked at me.

“I haven’t found one.”

Daniel pushed his chair back.

“Alistair wouldn’t do this.”

I turned the page around.

“He did.”

Then we found the draft.

It was not a signed contract. It was a planning memorandum prepared for Alistair and stored with the investment documents.

After the new capital came in, several assets were supposed to be reorganized.

One of those arrangements would have protected Paige’s residence.

Another would have shifted debt exposure in a way that could have reached assets tied to me.

At the bottom of one page was a note.

Resolve marital situation after funding closes.

I read it three times.

Daniel stood across from me.

“Jacqueline.”

I folded the document.

“Don’t.”

“I was going to say I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

I put the paper into my folder.

For three years, my husband had maintained another household.

His parents knew.

Company money helped fund it.

And somewhere along the way, Alistair had begun planning the financial version of my exit before he ever bothered telling me our marriage was over.

I had spent three days wondering why Martha had begged me not to make decisions while I was angry.

Now I knew.

She hadn’t been worried about my marriage.

She had been worried about what I might find.

---

Alistair came home eleven days after the accident.

I let him recover for another week.

Then I invited everyone to dinner.

Paige arrived with Matty.

Martha and George came separately.

Alistair looked suspicious the moment he saw them all in our dining room.

“What is this?”

“Dinner.”

Matty was carrying a plastic dinosaur.

He held it up to me.

“T-Rex.”

I crouched beside him.

“That’s a pretty serious T-Rex.”

He nodded.

“He bites.”

“Then we’d better give him his own chair.”

Paige watched me carefully.

Whatever she had expected from me, kindness toward her son wasn’t it.

But Matty had done nothing.

He hadn’t lied to me.

He hadn’t moved money.

He hadn’t made promises to two women.

He was three.

So we ate dinner.

Nobody mentioned the hospital.

Nobody mentioned the affair.

Matty dropped a piece of broccoli and his dinosaur landed in his water glass.

For thirty seconds, everyone at that table behaved like ordinary people.

Then Paige took Matty into the family room to watch a movie.

I waited until he was out of earshot.

Then I brought the folders from my office.

Alistair stared at them.

“What are those?”

I placed the first one in front of him.

“The audit.”

His face changed.

George stopped drinking.

Martha put down her fork.

Paige came back into the room.

“What audit?”

I opened the folder.

“The one the company started while Alistair was medically unable to manage operations.”

Alistair looked at me.

“You audited my company?”

“Our company.”

“You had no right—”

“I own eighteen percent.”

He stopped.

“And under the agreement you signed six years ago, I had temporary authority while you were incapacitated.”

George leaned forward.

“This should be discussed privately.”

I slid another page across the table.

“You received $640,000.”

His mouth closed.

Martha looked at him.

Then at me.

“That wasn’t—”

“Company money.”

Paige was staring at Alistair now.

“What is she talking about?”

I placed another statement on the table.

“Your penthouse.”

Paige didn’t touch it.

“Alistair pays for it.”

“Finch Development pays for it.”

Her face went pale.

Alistair pushed himself away from the table.

“Enough.”

“No.”

It was the first time I raised my voice all evening.

He stopped moving.

I opened the last folder.

“You were waiting for the investment to close.”

He looked at the page.

I watched him recognize it.

“Then you were going to restructure the assets, protect Paige’s apartment, move some of the company exposure and divorce me.”

Paige turned toward him.

“You said the divorce was already being handled.”

Martha looked at her.

“You knew he was married.”

Paige laughed once.

“You invited me to Christmas.”

“For Matty.”

“You bought me jewelry.”

“Because my grandson—”

“Stop.”

George slapped his palm against the table.

“All of you, stop. Do you understand what this could do to the company?”

I looked around the table.

Paige was angry at Alistair.

Martha was angry at Paige.

George was worried about the company.

Alistair was staring at me as though I had betrayed him by finding out.

I asked the only question I still wanted answered.

“Does anybody here care about anything that isn’t money?”

Nobody spoke.

From the family room, Matty laughed at something on television.

I closed the folder.

“I’m filing for divorce tomorrow.”

Alistair stared at me.

“Jackie, don’t do this.”

“I’m also asking the court to preserve the disputed assets until the finances are sorted out.”

Paige stepped toward the table.

“What happens to my home?”

“Talk to a lawyer.”

“And Matty?”

I looked at her.

“Matty is not part of this fight.”

Her expression changed.

“Whatever Alistair legally owes his son will be handled separately. I won’t challenge money that legitimately belongs to that child.”