“And I’m asking you to treat me like someone whose money and future matter.””

He didn’t respond.

“Can you send the documents?”” I asked again.

“I’ll see what I can do.””

“Thank you.””

I was about to end the call when he spoke.

“Mom, if you don’t help us, we could lose everything.””

I looked through the kitchen window at the magnolia tree in my backyard. Its branches moved gently in the morning breeze.

“Robert, I hope you find a way through this. But I won’t make a decision based on fear.””

He hung up without saying goodbye.

That afternoon, I went to the grocery store, bought a bag of apples, and stopped at the pharmacy to refill my prescription. Ordinary errands. Ordinary conversations. A cashier asked whether I wanted my receipt, and I answered without thinking about the phone in my purse.

When I returned home, there were three missed calls from Holly.

I listened to her voicemail.

“Ellena, this is getting ridiculous. Robert says you’re demanding paperwork. We’re talking about family, not a bank loan.

You know how difficult things have been for us. Ethan needs his parents to stay in their home. Please don’t let your personal feelings destroy his future.””

I sat down on the sofa.

Then I played the message again.

Not once did she say she was sorry.

Not once did she ask whether I had been hurt.

And not once did she suggest that Robert and I might need to repair our relationship before discussing money.

I deleted the voicemail.

At six that evening, I received an email from Robert.

The subject line read:

*URGENT—PLEASE READ*

The message contained a single sentence.

Mom, I’ve attached the documents you asked for. Please don’t share these with anyone.

My hand hovered over the mouse.

I opened the attachment.

The first page was a bank notice.

The second was a statement from Robert’s company.

The third was a list of outstanding invoices.

I began reading.

At first, the numbers seemed to support what he had told me. Several clients had delayed payments. Suppliers were demanding money. The business was carrying substantial debt.

Then I reached the fourth page.

It was a transaction summary showing money transferred out of the company’s operating account over the previous three months.

I leaned closer to the screen.

One payment was labeled Luxury Auto Lease.

Another was labeled Private Club Membership.

A third had gone to a high-end jewelry store.

I scrolled farther.

There were payments for a resort in the Bahamas, designer purchases, and a transfer to an account whose name I didn’t recognize.

The total was not fifty thousand dollars.

It was considerably more.

I sat back slowly.

Perhaps the company was in trouble because business had collapsed.

Perhaps Robert had made a series of bad decisions.

Or perhaps the fifty thousand dollars wasn’t meant to save his family at all.

I printed the transaction summary and placed it beside my old notebook.

Then I noticed something on the final page.

A transfer dated three days before Ethan’s birthday.

The recipient was a company I had never heard of.

The amount was $18,500.

And in the description field, someone had typed a single word.