The printer released the county record with a soft mechanical sigh.
Tiffany stood barefoot in the hallway, one hand gripping the edge of her robe.
Her eyes moved from the paper to the blue folder, then to the subject line glowing on my laptop.
Christmas Plans, the House, and the Missing Deposit.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Her voice was low, but the confidence she had carried into my kitchen earlier was gone.
I did not close the laptop.
“I’m making sure everyone receives the same information at the same time.”
She stepped closer.
“You went through our private accounts?”
“No.
Kevin asked me to review several statements three weeks ago because he couldn’t understand why your savings were disappearing.
He gave me access to the records you share.”
Her face tightened.
“That doesn’t give you the right to investigate me.”
“It gave me the right to ask why an apartment application carries my full legal name.”
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then a bedroom door opened upstairs.
Kevin appeared on the landing in a T-shirt and sweatpants.
He looked from Tiffany to me, then came slowly down the stairs.
“What’s going on?”
I turned the leasing receipt toward him.
“You told me the apartment deposit wiped out your savings.
Did you know whose name was on the application?”
He picked up the paper.
His eyes stopped on the first page.
“What is this?”
Tiffany reached for it, but he pulled it away.
“Kevin,” she said, “your mother is twisting things.”
He continued reading.
The apartment was a one-bedroom unit in a senior residential complex across town.
Tiffany was listed as the emergency contact.
My name appeared as the intended occupant.
A digital signature had been placed beneath it.
It resembled mine from a distance.
It was not mine.
Kevin looked at his wife.
“You said the deposit was for an apartment for us.”
“It was a temporary option,” Tiffany replied.
“We were discussing several possibilities.”
“You told me we needed our own place.
You said the landlord required the money immediately.”
“We do need our own place.”
“Then why is my mother’s name here?”
Tiffany’s gaze shifted toward me.
Because she had no convincing answer, she attacked the question.
“This house is too large for one person,” she said.
“We have children.
We need stability.
She would be more comfortable somewhere that handles maintenance.”
Kevin lowered the receipt.
“You signed her name?”
“I filled out an application.
That is not the same thing as forcing her to move.”
I slid the first bank statement across the counter.
“The application fee and deposit came from your joint savings.
