Patricia stopped, her hand hovering over a piece of white paper.

She looked up at him, her face tight.

“The one where the initial three million from Claire’s pre-IPO sale went,” she said.

My breath caught in my throat.

Three million dollars.

I had been told that money was lost in a market downturn during our first year of marriage.

Harrison stood over his mother, the black folder clutched to his chest.

“You took her IPO money,” he said.

“It was for the company,” Patricia said, standing up quickly and clutching three pages of the ledger to her chest. “It went directly into the debt service for the warehouse development.”

“That development failed,” Harrison said.

“Because we didn’t have enough,” Patricia said. “If you had kept her happy, if you hadn’t let her walk out, we would have had access to the rest of her shares by now.”

A sudden, sharp buzz vibrated in my hand.

My phone screen lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number.

The ringtone broke the silence of the penthouse.

Harrison and Patricia both whipped their heads toward the glass doors of the study.