“Good. The judge signed the emergency motion. We’re freezing all joint accounts tonight.”
Right then, a patrol car turned into the cul de sac and rolled toward my house. A deputy stepped out with papers in his hand.
“All the accounts he tried to move are flagged,” Allison said. “Whatever he thought he pulled off isn’t going to stick.”
The deputy taped a notice to the front door, checked the new lock, and left.
I waited until the street was quiet again, then drove straight to my sister Kimberly’s apartment.
On the highway, Allison called again. “Screenshot every message. Every call. Any bank alert. You set up notifications months ago for a reason.”
She was right.
Months earlier, Caleb had “forgotten” to pay our property taxes. I found the late notice shoved in his desk. That’s when I started digging. I discovered a separate checking account in his name and transfers from our joint account that didn’t match any real expenses.
When I confronted him, he said I was paranoid. Controlling. That’s when I met Allison.