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Chapter 5 - Following the Paper Trail

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Claire arrived at the hotel room less than forty-five minutes later carrying two large cups of black coffee and a heavy leather binder. She set her laptop on the small glass desk in the corner and motioned for me to sit down beside her.

"I pulled the wire transfer records through my firm's forensic portal," Claire said, opening a detailed spreadsheet. "The drain didn't happen overnight, Elena. It's been happening systematically for the last eight months."

I leaned in, staring at the long column of negative numbers written in bright red ink.

"Look at the names attached to these outgoing ACH transfers," Claire said, pointing her pen at the screen.

My eyes followed the line.

Transfer to: Lucas Morgan - $4,000.00

Transfer to: Lucas Morgan - $6,000.00

Transfer to: Lucas Morgan - $12,000.00

I felt a sudden spike of sharp, hot nausea in the back of my throat.

"Lucas..." I whispered. "Again?"

"Not just Lucas," Claire noted, scrolling down the page. "Look lower."

Transfer to: Liam Morgan - $8,500.00

Transfer to: Susan Morgan - $15,000.00

Transfer to: Lucas Morgan - $22,000.00

"My God..." my mother gasped from the bed, covering her mouth with her trembling hands. "Did Brandon lend his entire family our life savings?"

"He didn't lend them anything, Margaret," I said, my voice dropping into a dangerous, dark hollow. "He gave it to them. And he didn't say a single word to me."

Claire leaned closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing as she cross-referenced the transaction dates with my personal bank deposits.

"It gets worse, Elena," Claire said softly. "Look at the timing of these wire transfers."

I looked closer at the timestamps.

The largest transfers—the ones ranging between fifteen and twenty-five thousand dollars—had occurred within forty-eight hours of my bi-weekly paychecks and my annual nursing performance bonuses being deposited into the joint account.

Every time I worked a double shift at the hospital, every time I stayed late to care for ICU patients until my feet bled, Brandon was sitting at his desk, hitting the transfer button to send my money directly to his brothers and his mother.

"Remember six months ago when you asked him if we could buy your mother that high-end digital hearing aid?" Claire asked quietly.

I remembered it vividly. Brandon had held my hands, looked me in the eyes, and told me that our account balance was dangerously low because of 'unexpected tax liabilities' and that we needed to strictly budget for a few months.

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I had postponed buying my mother's hearing aid. I had driven my 2014 sedan with a broken air conditioner through the dead of summer.

That exact same week, Brandon had transferred eighteen thousand dollars to his brother Lucas.

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