Chapter 4
The next morning, Daniel’s shirt was draped over the folding chair.
The perfume still clung to the collar. I folded the shirt, placed it on his bag, and said nothing about where he had spent the night.
After showering, Daniel took five hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, sealed them in a white envelope, and put it in the cabinet above the washing machine.
“This is our last cash,” he said. “Don’t touch it unless there’s an emergency.”
I checked my bank balance. After selling my ring, I had $612 left. The $8,600 jewelry charge had moved from pending to completed.
Daniel pulled on his coat.
“Did the investor agree to help?”
“He’s thinking about it.”
“Did you sleep at the office?”
His hand paused on the zipper.
“The meeting ran late. I found somewhere nearby.”
He went upstairs without mentioning the perfume on his shirt.
Shortly after noon, he called me. Traffic moved behind his voice.
“My mom’s having chest pain. The doctor wants to run tests, and insurance won’t cover them yet.”
“Which hospital?”
“St. Mary’s.”
“I can pay the hospital directly.”
“She doesn’t want anyone knowing. There’s five hundred in the basement. I’m coming to get it.”
“How much are the tests?”
“Four eighty. Nora, I’m driving. I can’t explain every detail right now.”
He ended the call.
I opened the cabinet and removed the envelope. The five bills were still neatly stacked inside.
Before Daniel arrived, I photographed the cash beside the time on my phone.
He came twenty minutes later but did not walk downstairs. He stood at the top of the steps and held out his hand.
I gave him the envelope.
“Call me when the tests are finished.”
“I will.”
He squeezed the envelope, checking its thickness, then left.
I had a dental appointment that afternoon. A molar had been aching for two weeks, and the dentist warned that waiting could make the treatment more expensive.
I called and canceled.
The receptionist said the next available appointment might be three weeks away.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I can’t afford it right now.”
The next morning, I called Daniel’s mother.
She answered quickly. I heard silverware and women laughing in the background.
“Nora? What do you need?”
“Daniel said you went to St. Mary’s yesterday. How did the tests go?”
“The hospital?” She laughed. “I had lunch with my book club. Who told you I was in the hospital?”
I looked at the empty cabinet above the washer.
“I must have misunderstood.”
“Daniel has enough to deal with right now. Don’t bother him over little things.”
She said something to the woman beside her and hung up.
I did not call Daniel.
I created a folder for the photograph of the five hundred dollars, the transfer from my wedding ring, and the jewelry charge.
Then I opened an account at a different bank and moved the remaining $612 into it.
The website asked me to answer a security question: Who do you trust most?
I did not enter Daniel’s name.
Next, I contacted Tessa, a former coworker who still helped process the company payroll.
I didn’t tell her what was happening. I only asked whether this month’s checks had been delayed.
Her reply came within minutes.
No. Friday’s payroll is going out as usual. Why?
I turned my phone facedown on my lap.
The company could still pay its employees.
At least for now.
Daniel returned to the basement that evening. The first thing he did was open the cabinet above the washing machine.
Only after seeing it empty did he let go of the handle.
“My mother didn’t use all five hundred,” he said. “I’ll replace it when things settle down.”
I sat on the folding bed, packing my clothes into a suitcase.
Daniel leaned against the washer.
“If that money never comes back, are you going to blame me?”
I placed the last shirt in the suitcase and closed the zipper.
“No.”
It was the first deliberate lie I had told my husband in fifteen years.