They needed everyone to accuse me before anyone could find out where the money was truly being sent.
The officer paused the video.
Daniel’s mother stopped shouting.
Daniel took a step back.
And I finally understood.
The five thousand dollars was never the point.
It was a distraction.
A test.
A way to keep me from asking the one question that could destroy them.
Where was the rest of the money going?
And who else was involved?
The officer turned toward me.
“Ma’am, do you know what this account is connected to?”
I looked at Daniel.
He was already pale.
His mother was already reaching for her phone.
And the recording was still playing.
I didn’t answer the officer right away. I was still staring at the screen. The account number was visible. It was a series of digits I didn’t recognize. But something about the routing number was familiar. I had seen it before. On Daniel’s laptop. On a statement he had left open one night when he thought I was asleep.
