I waited.
“But when I zoomed in, the deposits weren’t from Serena. They had Department of Defense routing codes. Every month. Same sender.”
Rain tapped my window.
Nora’s voice hardened.
“They were from you.”
I closed my eyes.
Some betrayals become so clear they stop hurting and start giving instructions.
“How many guests?” I asked.
“Almost two hundred. Law partners, bankers, club members, donors. Your mother wants the story projected behind Serena’s speech.”
“Can you access the master file?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes.
My reflection stared back from the dark laptop screen.
Calm.
Tired.
Done.
“Nora,” I said, “how do you feel about telling the truth?”
Part 6: The Records Speak
I did not sleep that night.
I worked with the focus that comes before bad weather at sea, when everyone feels pressure shifting and starts securing what matters.
On one screen, I pulled three years of payroll allotment records: dates, amounts, deposit codes, my name beside every transfer.
