Chapter 2

The next few days, I swallowed it all. Didn't let a single crack show.

Every morning, I still measured Howard's oatmeal to the exact gram he demanded.

When Anna coughed and asked for Daddy, I told her without blinking that he was out working hard for this family.

But I knew. Everything had changed.

The perfume on his shirts, combined with those shady charges on his statements, made it impossible to keep pretending I hadn't noticed.

In a house where even toilet paper got split fifty-fifty, there was only one account he never had to show me receipts for.

Anna's education fund. Set up three years ago for her future—private school, college.

Thursday morning. I waited until Howard's car disappeared into his company's parking garage, then drove straight to Chase.

"Mrs. Mercer, what can I help you with today?" The banker smiled, handing me a cup of water.

"I need to check Anna's education fund." No small talk.

It was the one account we'd never nickeled and dimed over—a thousand dollars each, every month, for three years. He'd managed it all, parked in what he called stable index funds.

Principal alone was seventy-two thousand. With returns, it should've been pushing eighty by now.

The banker tapped a few keys. Her smile froze.

"Mrs. Mercer... the system shows this account currently has a balance of five hundred and twenty dollars."

I stared at the screen, my knuckles white around the cup. "What did you say?"

"The system shows that over the past year and a half, Mr. Mercer made six transfers, moving most of the funds into a business account called 'C&N Consulting.' The memo line says... venture capital investment."

C&N. Celeste and Noah?

Bile rose in my throat.

"Can you print me a detailed statement? Everything."

My voice was eerily calm.

Back in my car, I stared at the stack of papers.

Every transfer date lined up with days I'd been comparison shopping at the grocery store, crossing winter coats off my list.

I'd lived like a monk, scraping together Anna's future penny by penny. And he'd cashed it out without blinking—for someone else's wife and kid.

That evening, Howard came home early for once.

He tossed his suit jacket on the couch, barely glanced at Anna building blocks on the carpet, and headed straight for the kitchen to pour a glass of red wine.

"How's Anna doing?" he asked absently.

"Much better." I walked to the opposite side of the island, watching him. "She starts elementary school next year. I looked at a few private schools today. They need tuition deposits. I'm planning to withdraw from her education fund."

Howard's hand paused mid-swirl. Then he slipped right back into that condescending calm.

"Can't touch it right now." He took a sip. "I put it into a friend's startup. The funds are locked."

"A friend's company?" I held his gaze without flinching. "What kind of company needs a little girl's tuition to stay afloat?"

"Sandra, don't be hysterical." He set his glass down with an irritated thud, frowning. "Leaving it in the bank just lets it depreciate. I work in finance. I know how to maximize returns.

"Besides, we split everything fifty-fifty. Half that money is mine. I have absolute authority over my share."

"And the other half is mine!" My voice shot up. "Did you ask me even once before you moved it?"

"Do you even understand what venture capital means?" Howard let out a contemptuous laugh. "When did you get so materialistic, Sandra? You're just clinging to your pathetic need for control. I'm out there busting my ass, and it's all for this family!"

This was his specialty—wrapping his worst selfishness in the most righteous logic.

"For this family, or for your life outside it?" I asked coldly.

Howard's expression darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Since we split everything fifty-fifty, if you took my half, you owe me an IOU. At market-rate interest."

I resisted the urge to throw the statements in his face.

Not yet. With his connections in finance, one wrong move now and he'd scrub every trace of that money clean.

"You're being completely unreasonable!"

Howard exploded, hurling his wine glass into the sink. Glass shattered. Dark red liquid splattered across the marble. In the living room, Anna burst into tears.

He pointed at the door. "Don't push your luck, Sandra! I paid the down payment on this house. What you contribute each month wouldn't even cover rent. Feel wronged? There's the door!"

He stormed into his study and slammed it shut.

I didn't say a word. I walked to the living room, crouched down, and pulled Anna into my arms—she was trembling all over.

"Mommy, why is Daddy angry?"

"Because Daddy's sick, sweetheart." I kissed her hair, staring hard at that study door. "But don't worry. Mommy's going to fix everything."

Late that night, once Howard was asleep, I slipped into his study and copied every transaction record, statement, and tax document off his computer onto a thumb drive.

I was done with this marriage.

But before I left, I was taking back every penny that belonged to me and my daughter—with interest.