Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“Please, sit down, Mrs. Vance,” he said, gesturing to a padded leather chair.
I sat, keeping my purse on my lap, my arms wrapped tightly around it.
He sat behind his desk and pulled up my file on his computer screen. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and squinted at the rows of numbers.
“The transfer was processed through our mobile application,” he said, turning the monitor slightly so I could see the screen. “It went to a commercial property management account registered under the name Outer Banks Premier Rentals.”
“Three thousand dollars,” I said.
“Three thousand and twelve dollars,” he corrected gently. “The twelve dollars was the wire transfer fee.”
There it was in black and white on the screen. A transaction code, a timestamp from yesterday afternoon, and the name of the beach rental agency.
Ryan had not just planned a trip. He had paid the remaining balance of the luxury house using our entire joint savings.
“Is there any way to reverse it?” I asked. “I did not authorize this.”
