I opened the folder while Graham stood frozen beside the television.
For six months, the first page had contained one unresolved line.
March 14.
Corporate card ending 4421.
$18,742.63.
Client development.
Beside it were my notes from every time I had asked for documentation.
Receipt requested.
Follow-up sent.
No supporting invoice received.
Graham had always produced an answer just plausible enough to delay the next question.
The hotel had billed the wrong department.
The travel coordinator had misplaced the paperwork.
The client dinner had been bundled with lodging.
The final folio would arrive later.
Later had stretched into half a year.
And now Margaret had projected the missing answer onto her living room wall.
I placed my phone beside the folder and enlarged the photograph I had just taken.
Grand Wailea Maui.
Folio GW-77819-KD.
Corporate card ending 4421.
March 14.
I looked at Graham.
“Dallas?”
Nobody spoke.
Margaret recovered first.
She gave an irritated laugh, as though I had interrupted an important conversation with trivia.
“This is exactly what I mean,” she said.
“Your husband tells you he’s leaving you, and you start auditing a photograph.”
“I’m not auditing the photograph.”
I tapped the card number.
“I’m identifying a company expense.”
Caroline pushed back from the table.
“Oh, please.
It was a trip.
Graham works constantly.
If the company paid for some of it, who cares?”
I turned to her.
“I care because it was categorized as client development.”
Her expression changed slightly.
Not enough to admit fear.
Enough to show she understood the difference.
Graham finally moved.
He crossed the room and reached for the remote in his mother’s hand.
“Delete the slideshow.”
Margaret stared at him.
“Graham—”
“Delete it.”
That was the moment the room stopped being about my marriage.
Everyone felt it.
The priest set down his glass.
Paige looked from Graham to the screen.
“What are they talking about?” she asked.
Graham ignored her.
I closed the folder.
“You told me you were in Dallas on company business.”
