Chapter 2: The Woman Who Brought the Numbers
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The birthday candles had burned low enough that a thin ribbon of smoke curled above the cake. A small speaker near the window continued playing the cheerful birthday playlist, but the music sounded absurd against the silence.
Dad was still staring at the laptop.
Celeste stood on the opposite side of the table, one hand gripping the back of a chair.
Denise broke the silence.
“Marcus, I want to be careful about what I say until we've reviewed the supporting records. But the transactions in this report were not part of the ordinary company expenses.””
Dad slowly turned toward her.
“How long have you been looking into this?””
“Three weeks.””
“Three weeks?””
His voice rose on the second word.
“And you're telling me today? In my dining room?””
“I was waiting for the bank confirmations and the authorization records,” Denise explained.
“I didn't want to bring you an incomplete report.””
Celeste gave a sharp, humorless laugh.
“This is ridiculous. You're both acting as if I've committed some kind of crime.””
Denise didn't look at her.
“I'm not making an accusation, Celeste. I'm showing Marcus transactions that require an explanation.””
“Oh, please. You people love making ordinary business expenses sound suspicious.””
Dad straightened.
“You people?””
Celeste immediately looked away.
I watched the exchange, trying to fit the woman in front of me into the person I thought I knew.
For two years, she'd been the one who reminded me to send thank-you cards to relatives. She'd helped me pick a dress for the school dance and once stayed awake until midnight when I had a fever.
But she had also complained whenever Dad bought me something expensive.
When he paid for a summer writing program, she'd said, “We need to think about the household before making promises.””
When he gave me money for a school trip, she'd asked why I couldn't cover part of it myself.
Now she had bought me a laptop with my own savings.
I looked at the sealed box.
It didn't seem like a gift anymore.
It looked like evidence.
“Dad,” I whispered, “can I ask you something?””
He turned immediately.
“Anything, sweetheart.””
“Did you know she was using my money?””
His face changed.
“No.””
The answer came so quickly that I believed him.
He crouched beside my chair, bringing his eyes level with mine.
“Nia, I did not know. I promise you that.””
I wanted to hug him, but my arms wouldn't move.
“Then how did she get it?””
“We're going to find out.””
Celeste slammed her palm against the table.
“Marcus, stop making promises you can't keep! You don't even know what happened!””
He stood.
“Then explain it.””
She looked at the accountant's laptop.
“Denise has taken numbers out of context.””
“Which numbers?”” Dad asked.
“The company transfers. The household expenses. All of it.””
“Then tell me what each transaction was for.””
Celeste's lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Dad waited.
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen. Somewhere outside, a lawn mower started and faded into the distance.
Finally, Celeste pulled out the chair and sat down.
“Fine. I moved some money around. The company has cash flow.
The family has expenses. I handled things that needed to be handled.””
“From my company account?””
“Your company is our livelihood!””
“That's not what I asked.””
She pressed her fingertips against the table.
“Some of the money covered household expenses.””
“And Nia's college savings?””
Celeste looked at me.
For one brief moment, I thought she might apologize.
Instead, she said, “You don't understand how expensive it is to keep a family running.””
I felt my cheeks burn.
“I understand that you took my money.””
“You live in this house,” she snapped.
“You eat the food I buy. You use the electricity I pay for. Do you think all of that is free?””
Dad stepped between us.
“Do not put this on her.””
“I'm explaining reality!””
“No. You're trying to make a sixteen-year-old feel guilty because she asked where her savings went.””
Celeste pushed back from the table.
“You're making me sound like some kind of monster.””
“Then stop behaving like someone who takes money from a child and refuses to explain it.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
I had seen those tears before. They appeared whenever Dad challenged her about something she didn't want to discuss.
Usually, he softened.
Usually, he reached for her hand and told her they would work it out.
This time, he didn't move.
Denise adjusted the laptop so the screen faced him.
“I've separated the transactions into categories,” she said.
“Some appear to involve company funds transferred to accounts that aren't listed among our approved vendors. Others require documentation we haven't been able to locate.””
Dad stared at the figures.
“Does this include the money that went missing from my operating account last month?””
“Yes.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“How much?””
Denise pointed to a line in the report.
“It's included in the total shown here. I don't want to double-count anything before we finish reconciling the records.””
Dad nodded slowly.
“Who authorized the transfers?””
“Some were processed using your approval credentials. Others appear under a different set of access records.””
Celeste made a small sound.
Denise glanced at her for the first time.
“That's why I'm asking for a full review.””
Dad looked at his wife.
“Did you use my login?””
Celeste shook her head.
“Of course not.””
“Then how did these transactions get approved?””
“I don't know!””
“You just said you handled the expenses.””
“I meant I handled the bills. I didn't personally process every transaction.””
Denise folded her hands.
“Marcus, I recommend that we preserve the records and have an independent reviewer examine the transactions. We shouldn't assume who was responsible until the documentation is complete.””
Dad nodded.
“Do it.””
Celeste stared at him.
“You're bringing strangers into our finances?””
“It's my company.””
“It's our life!””
“And that is exactly why I need to know what's happening.””
She looked around the room, searching for something that might turn the conversation back in her favor.
Then her gaze landed on the birthday cake.
A tiny smile appeared, so faint I almost missed it.
“Can we at least finish Nia's birthday before turning this into a courtroom?””
I looked at the candles.
Sixteen.
I had imagined this day so many times. I'd pictured my dad taking photographs, my friends sending embarrassing messages, and the three of us eating cake while Celeste complained that we were getting frosting on the tablecloth.
I'd imagined opening a laptop that would help me study.
Instead, I was sitting beside a company investigation.
“I don't want the laptop,” I said.
Everyone turned toward me.
Celeste blinked.
“What?””
“Take it back.””
“Nia, don't be childish.””
“I'm serious.””
I pushed the sealed box away from me.
“I don't want anything that was bought with money you took from me.””
For a moment, the room became so quiet I could hear my own breathing.
Then Celeste stood and seized the gift box.
“Fine. If that's how you're going to act, you don't deserve it.””
“Celeste,” Dad warned.
But she was already lifting the box from the table.
“You know what your problem is, Nia? You think every dollar in this family belongs to you just because your father says you're special.””
Dad stepped forward.
“Put the box down.””
“No.””
“Celeste.””
She stared at him, waiting for the old familiar ending—the apology, the compromise, the quiet request that everyone calm down.
It never came.
Dad held out his hand.
“Put it down. We're not making decisions about the money tonight. And you're not going to punish Nia for asking questions.””
Celeste slowly lowered the box onto a sideboard.
Then she turned toward the stairs.
“I need some air.””
She disappeared down the hallway without another word.
A door closed upstairs.
I stared at the doorway.
“Dad, is she going to leave?””
He looked exhausted.
“I don't know, sweetheart.””
That answer scared me more than anything else he'd said.
Denise closed the report, though she left the laptop on the table.
“I'll send you the supporting documents tomorrow morning,” she told him.
“And Marcus, please don't delete messages or change any records until we've preserved everything relevant.””
Dad nodded.
After she left, he stood in the dining room for a long time.
Then he pulled out a chair beside mine.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
I looked at him.
“For what?””
“For letting you believe that the money you worked so hard to save was safe without making sure it was protected.””
“You didn't take it.””
“But I should have noticed something was wrong.””
I wanted to tell him that none of this was his fault.
I wanted to tell him that I was sixteen and that adults were supposed to know what to do.
Instead, I leaned against his shoulder and cried.
He wrapped an arm around me.
“We'll get answers,” he whispered.
Upstairs, a drawer opened.
Then another.
Footsteps crossed the floor above us.
Dad lifted his head.
“Stay here a minute, baby.””
He walked toward the staircase.
I remained beside the table, listening.
Then I heard Celeste's voice from upstairs, low and hurried.
“No. He saw the report.””
A pause.
“I told you I was handling it.””
Another pause.
Then, so quietly I almost missed it, she said the words that made my blood run cold.
“He doesn't know about the other account.””
I stopped breathing.
A floorboard creaked above me.
May you like
And when I heard Celeste say one final sentence, I knew the missing money wasn't the only secret in our house.
“If he finds out whose name is on it, we're finished.””
