The room seemed to tilt. Eighty-nine thousand dollars. Every cent I’d earned freelancing had gone into what I believed was our savings. I’d been so proud of that cushion.
“Where did all our money go?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“Your joint checking account shows repeated transfers to an account in your mother-in-law’s name,” she said. “Fifty-eight transfers over fourteen months, anywhere from five hundred to three thousand each. Total just under forty-two thousand.”
I felt nauseated. Deborah’s shopping sprees, spa visits, weekend trips—paid for by me. And all the while she criticized my car and wardrobe.
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