Chapter 2 - THE MONEY HE THOUGHT I’D NEVER FIND
That second text scared me more than the first.
Not because Diego was angry.
Because he already knew what I had found.
I called Camila into the bedroom.
She read the screen twice.
“Don’t answer him.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Call the bank.”
“He specifically told me not to.”
“Exactly.”
I called the fraud department.
The representative asked me a series of security questions, then went quiet.
“Mrs. Morales, are you saying you did not authorize this home-equity line?”
“No.”
“And you did not electronically sign the agreement dated May fourteenth?”
“No.”
Another pause.
“Did your husband have access to your email?”
“Yes.”
“Your phone?”
“Sometimes.”
“Your personal information?”
“He knows everything.”
The woman’s voice changed.
More careful.
“I’m placing an immediate fraud restriction on the line.”
My hands shook.
“How much was borrowed?”
“Mrs. Morales…”
“How much?”
“Eighty-five thousand dollars.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
Eighty-five thousand.
Against our house.
Without telling me.
Camila covered her mouth.
The representative continued.
“Approximately sixty-nine thousand has already been disbursed.”
“To Teresa?”
“I can’t characterize the recipient, but I can tell you the transfers went to a business account.”
“T. Alvarez Holdings?”
Silence.
Then: “Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Teresa hadn’t just been controlling my husband.
She was taking our money.
“Can you freeze it?”
“We can restrict further advances. Recovering transferred funds is more complicated.”
“What should I do?”
“You may want to speak with law enforcement and an attorney.”
My phone buzzed again.
Diego.
Pick up.
Again.
Verónica.
Then he called.
I declined.
He called again.
Then Teresa called.
Then Diego.
Then Teresa.
Camila looked at me.
“They’re panicking.”
I whispered, “Good.”
At 11:17 p.m., somebody pounded on Camila’s front door.
Sofía woke crying.
Camila looked through the security camera.
Her face went pale.
“It’s Diego.”
He hit the door again.
“Verónica!”
I went downstairs but didn’t open it.
“You need to leave.”
“You froze the account!”
“Yes.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I know my signature was forged.”
Silence.
Then Diego lowered his voice.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“This is between us.”
“No. This became bigger than us when you borrowed against our house using my name.”
“You don’t understand the investment.”
“I understand fraud.”
He slammed his palm against the door.
Sofía screamed upstairs.
Something inside me snapped.
“Leave before I call the police.”
“You’d call the cops on your husband?”
“I’ll call them on anyone frightening my daughter.”
Camila was already dialing.
Diego stared through the glass.
For a moment, his face was the face I remembered from our wedding.
Then it changed.
Cold.
“You think freezing that account protects you?”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
He smiled.
“You really should have come home.”
Then he walked away.
The police arrived ten minutes later.
They took a report.
I showed them the texts.
The mark on Sofía’s arm.
The loan document.
One officer photographed everything.
Before leaving, he said something that kept me awake the rest of the night.
“Mrs. Morales, if your husband forged your signature once, don’t assume this is the only document.”
At 2:06 a.m., I logged back into our financial portal.
I searched every linked account.
Every credit card.
Every loan.
And then I found one more account.
Not joint.
Not mine.
But my Social Security number was attached to it.
Balance due:
May you like
$41,380.
And the account had been open for eighteen months.
