Chapter 2 - I didn't cry at the bank.I think that surprised the banker.
I surprised myself.
My hands were shaking, but my mind had become strangely clear.
“Can you print everything?” I asked.
“All transactions?”
“Everything.”
The banker nodded.
I requested eleven months.
Not eleven days.
Not three months.
Everything.
She printed fourteen pages.
I sat in the chair and studied them line by line.
The first withdrawals were small.
$600.
$900.
$1,250.
Then $3,000.
Then $7,500.
Then larger transfers.
Most were labeled as personal expenses.
Some went to restaurants.
Some to luxury retailers.
Some to travel agencies.
One was for a jewelry company.
Another was for a cosmetic clinic.
There were hotel payments.
Airport charges.
Car rentals.
And then came the transfers to Thomas Bennett Holdings.
I counted them.
Seventeen.
Seventeen separate transfers.
The total was $98,000.
I looked at the banker.
“Do you know this company?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me when it was created?”
She checked.
“Ten months ago.”
Ten months.
One month after Harrison and Sloan moved in.
My throat tightened.
“Who owns it?”
She shook her head.
“We can't disclose that without a formal legal request.”
I already knew what I was going to do.
“Freeze the account.”
She looked uncertain.
“Your account?”
“No. The emergency account. No withdrawals. No transfers. Nothing.”
She immediately began typing.
Then she stopped.
“There's one issue.”
“What?”
“Your son is still listed as an authorized user.”
“Remove him.”
“I can submit the request.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“I want it done today.”
She studied me for several seconds before nodding.
“Understood.”
When I left the bank, I sat in my car without turning the engine on.
The house suddenly felt different.
Not smaller.
More dangerous.
I thought about every time Harrison had asked me for money.
“Just until next Friday, Mom.”
“I'm between paychecks.”
“There's a billing mistake.”
“Sloan needs medication.”
“Car trouble.”
I had believed him because he was my son.
I had never imagined he might be billing my kindness as an expense.
When I arrived home, Sloan was in the kitchen.
She was wearing my apron.
She had opened a bottle of champagne.
“You're back.”
I stared at the bottle.
“Why are you drinking champagne?”
She smiled.
“Harrison had some good news.”
“What kind?”
She shrugged.
“You'll hear soon.”
My son walked in.
He froze when he saw me.
For one second, I saw fear in his eyes.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Then it vanished.
“Mom.”
I set my purse down.
“We need to talk.”
Sloan immediately intervened.
“If this is about the house rules again, I'm really not in the mood.”
I looked at her.
“This isn't about the house.”
Harrison's face tightened.
“What is it?”
“The emergency account.”
Silence.
Sloan's champagne glass stopped halfway to her lips.
Harrison said nothing.
I watched him.
“Do you know what I'm talking about?”
He swallowed.
“Of course.”
“Good.”
I placed the bank statement on the table.
His eyes dropped to it.
Then back to me.
“You've been withdrawing money.”
His jaw tightened.
“Mom, I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
He looked at Sloan.
She looked at him.
And that was enough.
I didn't need a confession to know there had been a plan.
Harrison sat down.
“You're going to be angry.”
“I already am.”
“We were going to pay it back.”
“With what?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“It was complicated.”
“Was buying a Gucci bag complicated?”
Sloan stood.
“Don't bring my bag into this.”
“It came from my account.”
“You don't know that.”
“I have the records.”
She went silent.
Harrison stared at the floor.
“I was going to replace it.”
“How?”
He had no answer.
Then I noticed something.
His left hand was shaking.
“Why did you create Thomas Bennett Holdings?”
He looked up so quickly that his chair moved.
Sloan turned toward him.
“What?”
I stared at my son.
He had gone completely still.
That was the first real answer.
“You know about the company,” I said.
“No.”
“Then why did your face change?”
He stood.
“This conversation is over.”
“No.”
I stepped in front of him.
“You are not walking away.”
He lowered his voice.
“Mom, you don't understand what you're getting into.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked frightened again.
Then Sloan spoke.
“You should stop digging.”
I turned to her.
“What did you just say?”
She took another sip.
“You heard me.”
I felt ice move through my chest.
“I am trying to understand why my husband’s name is attached to a company he never created.”
Sloan shrugged.
“Maybe you should ask Harrison.”
I did.
He wouldn't answer.
Instead he said something that made my blood run cold.
“You don't want to know everything.”
I stared at him.
“Try me.”
He walked past me.
At the doorway, he stopped.
Then he whispered,
“Because once you know, Mom, you're going to lose more than money.”
He walked upstairs.
I remained in the kitchen.
Sloan stayed behind.
She looked almost amused.
“You really should have left things alone.”
I turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
She smiled.
“You'll find out.”
That night, I couldn't sleep.
At 2:17 a.m., I heard footsteps in the hallway.
I opened my bedroom door slightly.
Harrison stood outside my office.
He looked around.
Then he pulled a key from his pocket.
My new lock.
He shouldn't have had a key.
He inserted it.
The lock opened.
My blood went cold.
I watched as he entered my office.
He closed the door.
I waited.
Then I heard drawers opening.
Something being moved.
I quietly stepped into the hallway.
I reached the office door.
Before I opened it, I heard Harrison whisper into his phone.
“She knows about the account.”
A pause.
Then:
“No. She doesn't know about the documents.”
My heart stopped.
Documents.
“What do we do?” he whispered.
Another pause.
May you like
Then Harrison said the words that changed everything.
“If she finds Thomas's original will, we're finished.”
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