Chapter 3 - The Secret I Gave Her
Three weeks earlier, I had gone to my mother because I thought I was losing my marriage.
Now I understood I had handed her a map.
I looked at Diane.
“I told you I saw the transfer.”
“I told you I was scared Noah was hiding something.”
“Yes.”
“And the next day you knew he was looking at Westbridge.”
She wiped her face.
“I asked questions.”
“You warned yourself.”
Noah leaned back.
“That’s when the files started disappearing.”
I turned to him.
“What files?”
“Vendor contracts. Old board approvals. A backup drive from your father’s office.”
“And you still didn’t tell me?”
His jaw tightened.
“I should have.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I thought Diane would destroy the rest if she knew you knew.”
“She did know I knew. Because I told her.”
The sentence made me feel stupid.
Mom reached for my hand.
She whispered, “You came to me crying.”
“I trusted you.”
“I was trying to keep your marriage from blowing up over something you didn’t understand.”
My laugh came out ugly.
“So you told my husband I had met a divorce lawyer?”
She looked at Noah.
He answered for her.
“She played me a recording.”
I stopped breathing.
“What recording?”
Noah took out his phone.
He pressed play.
My own voice filled the kitchen.
I don’t know if I can stay married to him if this is who he really is.
Then:
Maybe I don’t know him at all.
I remembered saying those words in Mom’s car.
I also remembered what came between them.
If Noah is stealing from Dad’s company, if he’s lying to me, if the hotel receipt means what I think it means—then I don’t know if I can stay married to him if this is who he really is.
The recording had been cut.
I looked at Diane.
“You edited me.”
“I was scared.”
“No. You made him think I had already decided to leave.”
Noah stared at the table.
“That recording is why I stopped asking you what was wrong.”
I turned on him.
“You should have asked anyway.”
“I know.”
Mom whispered, “I wanted time.”
“For what?”
She looked at the blue ledger.
“To fix what your father started.”
I opened it again.
Near the back was a handwritten note in Dad’s block letters.
May you like
DIANE — STOP MOVING MONEY. WE NEED TO TELL CLAIRE.
The date was six days before he died.
