Inside the drawer was a thick folder.
Written across the front were the words:
“MARGARET — 30 YEARS.”
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My hands began trembling.
I opened the folder. The continuation read in the comments
Inside were hundreds of bank transfer receipts.
Every transfer had been made around the time I received my monthly paycheck.
But the money hadn’t gone into our family bank account.
It had been transferred to an unfamiliar company.
The company’s name was “Last Chance.”
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Then I found a document that read:
Open Bank Account
“Ownership transfer scheduled for the couple’s 55th wedding anniversary.”
My name appeared at the bottom.
At that moment, I heard the front door open.
Robert was home.
I quickly hid the folder behind my back.
“Margaret, what are you doing in here?”
I couldn’t contain my anger.
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“You’ve been taking my money for thirty years. Now I want to know where it’s gone!”
