She might have known that my information was being used.
I opened the folder in front of me.
The spreadsheet.
The debt statements.
The credit inquiries.
The message from Rachel.
And suddenly, one question became more important than all the others.
Why had Margaret been so desperate to make me quit my job… if she already knew my income was the thing keeping their entire financial mess alive?
I looked at the clock.
Then at the folder.
Then at the message from Rachel.
I realized I had spent eighteen months asking the wrong question.
I had been asking:
“How much money did Nathan take?”
Now I needed to know:
“What did Margaret and Nathan plan to do with my money once I stopped asking questions?”
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