She returned to the storage unit Daniel had rented years ago—the same place she’d found neat boxes of ledgers. This time, she was less tentative, more determined. The unit smelled of dust and rust; fluorescent light hummed. Boxes waited in parallel rows like patient witnesses.
In a box labeled Financial — 2009–2015, she found old loan paperwork and, traversing the pages, a ledger showing the slow funneling of certain sums into an account named as a trust. Dates on the deposits stretched back a decade. He had been moving money for years, carefully, deliberately.