She again thought of the withdrawal transactions. Brett was never an impulsive person. Gambling seemed unlikely. An affair? Thinking of debt was worse. She imagined money disappearing into someone else’s hands, funding a life she didn’t recognize, built quietly behind her back.
Now that she had found the mail about the house, the withdrawals rearranged themselves into evidence. Sale, cash, disappearance. It made sense in a cruel, logical way. Whatever he was doing, it was expensive and hidden. She no longer wondered if something was wrong. She believed she understood exactly what kind of wrong it was.