I kept my eyes closed.
The next morning, I called a divorce attorney.
Daniel called one too.
Neither lawyer told us to do anything dramatic.
Preserve evidence.
Protect personal accounts.
Don’t drain joint funds.
Don’t destroy property.
Don’t make impulsive decisions.
By afternoon, Daniel called.
“Mom.”
His voice sounded wrong.
“What?”
“I checked our wedding account.”
Several transfers had gone from the account he shared with Jenna into her private one.
Eight hundred dollars.
Twelve hundred.
Nine hundred.
Two thousand.
Nearly nine thousand dollars over several months.
“Could they be normal expenses?”
“Maybe.”
But neither of us believed that.
Then I found hotel charges on the credit card Mark and I shared.
Three.
One was from the same hotel.
Daniel looked at me.
“So Dad was paying for rooms with your money.”
“Our money.”
“Mom.”
“I know.”
That afternoon, Mark called me.
“What are you doing for dinner?”
