The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the parking lot.

“That went well,” Jerome said, unlocking his car.

“It’s not over yet,” I said.

“No,” Jerome agreed. “But the hard part is done.”

I got into my car and sat in the driver’s seat for a moment before turning the key.

My phone vibrated in my purse.

I pulled it out, expecting a text from Rachel asking for an update.

Instead, the screen showed an incoming call from an unknown number.

I pressed the talk button and held the phone to my ear.

“Avery?” a woman’s voice said.

It wasn’t Rachel, and it wasn’t Kayla.

“Yes,” I said.

“My name is Elena,” the voice said. “I think we need to talk about your husband’s other bank accounts.”

I gripped the steering wheel with my free hand.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I worked as a senior teller at the Elm Street branch,” Elena said. “I handled your husband’s accounts for three years.”

I looked out the windshield at the grey pavement.

“Why are you calling me now?” I asked.