Page 135 of This Life of Mine

David’s voice carries through the speaker. “You told me those transfers were donations. Fundraising expenses. Administrative costs.”

A pause. Then—

“Those same consulting agencies have been receiving money for years, Elinor.” David’s voice is strained, each word sharper than the last. “Years.”

A loud thud echoes through the office. Paper rustles.

I picture statements hitting the mahogany desk.

“I spoke with the country club today.” David lets out a humorless laugh. “I asked the event coordinator why our donations kept increasing every year.”

Silence.

“They had no idea what the hell I was talking about!”

A chair scrapes across the hardwood floor.

“She pulled every donation we’ve ever made.” His breathing grows heavier. “Every gala. Every fundraiser. Every sponsorship.”

Another stack of papers slaps against the desk.

“They’re nowhere near what’s showing on our accounts.”

The room falls silent.

“When I told her the amounts we’ve supposedly paid...” He scoffs. “She thought I’d misread the statements.”

His voice hardens.

“We’ve been paying consulting agencies and making charitable contributions that don’t exist, Elinor.”

A long pause stretches between them.

“This wasn’t a bookkeeping error.”

His tone drops low enough that I have to focus to catch every word.

“Someone has been bleeding this family dry for years.”

Another pause.

“Do you have any idea how much money is missing?”

Silence.

“I trusted the people around me.” His voice is quieter now, edged with betrayal instead of anger. “I supposedly signed the checks.I apparentlyapproved the transfers.”

The sound of a fist crashing against the desk reverberates through the phone.

“I was robbed right under my goddamn nose.”

The office falls eerily quiet.

“So tell me, Elinor...”

His voice is calm now. Too calm.

“Where did the money go?”