“I moved it. I know what I’m doing.”
He said it slowly, as if the problem was that I couldn’t follow a simple explanation.
For years, I’d transferred money because I believed we were building a future together. Now I couldn’t even tell whether the savings he talked about existed. And I knew where at least $88,400 of my own savings had gone.
“I’m not sending you anything tonight,” I said.
His face changed. “You’re making a serious mistake.”
He put the phone in his pocket and walked out of the kitchen.
I stood there staring at Barbara’s grandmother’s china stacked on the counter. For the first time, I stopped trying to convince myself that his threat was harmless.
