Melissa.
Diane.
Mercer.
Grant returned to the apartment that evening.
I was already waiting for him.
Melissa had eventually left after threatening to contact an attorney.
Jason stayed long enough to email me copies of his tuition records.
Before he walked out, he said something I couldn’t get out of my head.
“Rachel, I always wondered why Melissa suddenly stopped asking me for extra money three years ago.”
Three years.
Exactly when I had started “helping.”
Grant stepped into the apartment carefully.
“We need to talk.”
“Yes.”
His gaze moved toward the dining table.
My laptop was open.
Bank statements covered nearly half the surface.
Something shifted in his expression.
Barely.
But I noticed.
“Do you know what MDM Family Services is?” I asked.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I stood up.
“Try again.”
“I said no.”
“Jason pays Tyler’s tuition.”
Silence.
“Did you know that?”
Grant rubbed the back of his neck.
“Rachel—”
That was enough.
Something inside me seemed to break with such precision that I barely felt pain.
“You knew.”
“I knew Jason contributed.”
“He pays all of it.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You let me pay fourteen thousand dollars every year.”
“I thought Melissa was using it for Tyler.”
“You thought?”
“She was struggling.”
“So you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You watched me transfer money for fake tuition.”
“I never asked you to do that.”
A laugh escaped me.
“No. You just told me your nephew might have to leave his school if your sister couldn’t find help.”
Grant sat down.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is when you already knew the tuition was covered.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re making this uglier than it is.”
I simply stared at him.
Then, mentally, I heard the voice of my lawyer.
Except I didn’t actually have one yet.
That changed the next morning.
