I donated my kidney to my seriously ill husband, and the next day his mistress showed up at the hospital and said, "Now we can finally be together without you" — but what I did next made them both scream.

I stared at the message for a long moment.

*We need to talk.*

No name.

No context.

The number had a local area code but nothing else I recognized.

Daniel was still holding the folder.

His hands had stopped shaking, which somehow made it worse.

He was composing himself.

Calculating.

"Who sent that?" he said.

"None of your business."

"It's my business if it involves—"

"You lost the right to know my business," I said, "the moment you let me go under anesthesia to save your life while she was waiting in the parking lot."

Jessica flinched.

She was still in the hallway, one hand pressed flat against the wall like she needed it to stay upright.

I typed back one word: *Who is this?*

The reply came in under ten seconds.

*Someone who knows what Daniel did with the money.

All of it.

Not just what's in that folder.*

My chest went tight.

I kept my face still.

Daniel was watching me.

"Put the phone away.

Whatever that is, it's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think."

"I know you're upset.

I know this looks bad.

But there are things about our finances that are complicated, and if someone is feeding you information right now, they have their own agenda."

"Complicated," I repeated.

"Yes."

"You moved money out of our joint accounts for three years.

You took out a second phone contract.

You have transfer receipts to an address I've never heard of." I held up the folder.

"Which part is the complicated part, Daniel?"

A nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Sir, your blood pressure monitor—"

"I'm fine," he said, not looking at her.

She looked at me.

I gave her a small nod and she stepped back.

I typed again: *What money?

What did he do?*

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

My mother's voice came from behind me.

She had arrived while I was in Daniel's room, and now she was standing in the hallway with her coat still on, looking at Jessica with an expression I had never seen on her face before.

"Mom," I said.

"Not now."

"I know her," my mother said.

I turned around.

"What?"

My mother pointed at Jessica.

Not rudely.

Just clearly, the way she pointed at things she wanted me to see.

"She came to the house," my mother said.

"Eight months ago.

She said she was from Daniel's office.

Something about papers he needed to sign.