“No. He just showed us printed copies from a folder.”
That detail mattered immensely.
Before I could ask anything else, Harrison yelled something in the background.
“That is enough!”
I heard a heavy thud against the hardwood floor.
Then Maya whispered into the receiver, “Dad’s storming upstairs.”
“To his home office?”
“Yeah.”
“Do not follow him. Stay downstairs with Connor and your mother.”
“Why?”
“Because whatever he’s trying to hide up there needs to be preserved.”
After she hung up, I relayed what Valerie had said to Miriam.
“Safe Haven Lodge certainly never received a $48,500 donation from you,” Miriam said, bewildered.
“I know. But I need you to check if anyone has made donations using my name recently.”
Miriam immediately called the shelter’s treasurer.
Over the previous eight months, Safe Haven Lodge had received four small, automated online donations listed under my name. Altogether, they totaled exactly $850.
I hadn’t authorized a single one of them.
The funds were traced back to a business account belonging to Summit Crest Holdings. Whoever processed the payments had typed my name in as the public donor.
I recognized the name Summit Crest. Harrison had brought it up once in passing, claiming it was a real estate venture run by an old buddy from college.
Those small donations had generated a legitimate public record tying me financially to Safe Haven Lodge. Harrison then used digitally altered bank statements to make it look like I had secretly drained $48,500 from our accounts.
The fake printouts would never hold up to formal legal verification. But they were never meant to.
They were specifically designed to convince Valerie and his children that I had betrayed Harrison, ensuring I’d be completely isolated and easier to steamroll during a divorce.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Come home right now, Harrison texted. We need to talk this out before you make things worse.
A few seconds later, another text popped up.
Please don’t involve the police.
I hadn’t even mentioned the police.
I quickly took screenshots of the messages and dialed my bank’s 24-hour fraud hotline.
The security representative confirmed that $48,500 had indeed been drained from our joint savings account in four separate transfers.
The money hadn’t gone to the shelter.
It had been wired to Summit Crest Holdings.
Because Harrison was legally a joint account holder, the bank initially viewed the transfers as a civil marital dispute. However, because they had been routed through my individual online profile without my consent, the bank locked down all online access and launched an internal fraud investigation.
At 1:26 a.m., Maya called back.
“Dad just drove off.”
“Did he take anything with him?”
“Just his laptop.”
She explained that Harrison had left a leather presentation folder sitting on the dining room table in his rush. It was filled with the doctored bank statements and typed pages outlining how unstable and manipulative I supposedly was.
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