The screen loaded, showing a list of his connected accounts.

The main savings account, where we kept our emergency fund and the remains of our house money, was listed at the top.

The balance column showed a series of numbers that made Leo’s face freeze.

He dropped his phone onto my bed, his hands shaking violently.

“Leo, what is it?” I asked, grabbing the phone before it slid off the mattress.

I looked down at the bright screen.

I stared at the numbers, my thumb scrolling down the transaction history.

A transfer of nine thousand four hundred dollars had occurred at 9:14 AM.

Another transfer of two thousand six hundred dollars had followed sixty seconds later.

Both amounts had been moved to an account labeled *Savings-0402*.

That was the old account Leo had shared with his mother since he was eighteen.

The name on the destination account was listed in tiny, grey text: *Leo Sullivan & Josephine Sullivan*.

“She took it,” I whispered.

“She cleared out everything, Grace,” Leo said.

His voice cracked on my name.

He sank onto the plastic chair beside my hospital bed and buried his face in his hands.