Hannah’s hands shook as she turned the first page. Every entry was dated the second of the month. Seven hundred fifty dollars, again and again, twenty-four times, all under her name, not mine. Then she reached the very first line, and a sound escaped her that I had not heard since she was a little girl. Before I could say a word, heavy footsteps thundered across the ceiling above us.

Brian burst into the kitchen, his eyes locked on the book. “What is that?” Hannah tried to hide it inside her robe, but he crossed the room in three strides and yanked it from her hands. He read the balance, and every drop of color left his face. Then he looked at me and said, in a voice I did not recognize, “You had this the entire time, and you let us go through all this?”