Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN HE PLANNED TO BLAME
Evelyn called an emergency meeting the following morning.
She had received copies of internal emails from the foundation's document system.
Several messages appeared to have been sent from my account.
They approved consulting payments.
Authorized changes to scholarship distributions.
And acknowledged invoices from Aster Lane.
I read them carefully.
The language was wrong.
I never wrote "per our strategic alignment."
I never referred to scholarship students as "beneficiary units."
And I certainly never approved a $310,000 payment without asking what it was for.
"These aren't mine," I said.
Evelyn nodded.
"We'll need a technical review."
I looked at her.
"Can they prove someone else sent them?"
"Possibly. Login records, device information, document history, and other evidence may help."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Why would Derek do this?"
She hesitated.
"One possibility is that he wanted a record pointing toward you."
I stared.
The room seemed to narrow.
For eleven years, I'd believed my husband was emotionally absent.
Selfish.
Unfaithful.
I hadn't imagined he might be willing to sacrifice my reputation to protect himself.
That evening, Sienna called me.
I almost ignored the number.
Then answered.
"Claire?"
Her voice was trembling.
"It's Sienna."
I stood in the kitchen.
"What do you want?"
"I need to talk."
"Then talk to my attorney."
"Please."
I hesitated.
She sounded frightened.
"What's happened?"
There was a pause.
Then she whispered:
"Derek told me you approved everything."
I closed my eyes.
"Of course he did."
"He said the foundation was using a new accounting structure."
"And you believed him?"
Silence.
Then:
"I wanted to."
The admission surprised me.
Sienna continued.
"He told me you two had been separated for years."
I stared.
"We live in the same house."
"He said it was for Grace."
I looked toward the living room, where my daughter was drawing.
Sienna began crying.
"I didn't know."
I swallowed.
"Didn't know what?"
"That he was planning to blame you."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
She lowered her voice.
"He has a folder."
I gripped the counter.
"What folder?"
"Documents. Emails. Payment approvals. Everything under your name."
I closed my eyes.
"Where?"
"In his office."
"Why are you telling me?"
Sienna hesitated.
Then whispered:
"Because he told me if the investigation gets worse, he'll say I acted alone."
I stood motionless.
She continued.
"He said nobody would believe a woman like me over a man like him."
The words were painfully familiar.
I took a breath.
"Sienna, you need an attorney."
"I know."
"And you need to preserve whatever records you legally have access to."
She sniffed.
"Will you help me?"
I closed my eyes.
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But I also recognized what Derek had done.
He'd told each of us a different story.
And expected us to remain too ashamed to compare them.
"I won't protect you from consequences," I said.
"I know."
"But I won't help Derek make you a scapegoat either."
She began crying again.
May you like
And I realized my husband had finally made one mistake he couldn't repair.
He had underestimated both women.
