Her arm is still in a sling. Her forehead bandage is white against her hair. But her eyes are clear, sharp, and furious.
“What are you doing?”
You stand slowly.
“What did you do to our house?”
She looks at the documents on the desk.
For one second, fear crosses her face.
Then she becomes calm.
That frightens you more.
“You broke into my files.”
“Our files.”
“You had no right.”
“I had no right to know you pulled $420,000 from our home?”
She steps inside and closes the door behind her.
“You never cared about finances until now.”
“You forged my signature.”
She laughs.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I was in Arizona on the date of this signing.”
“You authorized me.”
“No, I trusted you.”
Her face hardens.
“There’s a difference?”
The cruelty is so casual you almost lose your balance.
