Chapter 3 - THE ACCOUNTS IN HER NAME
Vincent took Evelyn to a twenty-four-hour café near Boston Common.
Not to his house.
Not to a private club.
Not anywhere she couldn't leave.
His driver waited outside.
Evelyn sat across from him, wrapped in his coat, holding a mug of tea.
Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Vincent looked at her.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
She nodded.
Then explained.
The credit accounts.
The forged signatures.
The company she'd never created.
The conversation she'd overheard.
Vincent listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he asked, “Do you have copies of the documents?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In my email.”
“Good.”
Evelyn looked down.
“I don't know what to do.”
Vincent considered her.
“First, we make sure you're safe tonight. Then you speak with an attorney who handles financial fraud and domestic abuse.”
She looked up.
“Will you help me?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why?”
Vincent leaned back.
“Because someone should have helped you sooner.”
Evelyn swallowed.
He continued.
“But I want something clear.”
She looked at him.
“You don't owe me anything.”
Her expression changed.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
She stared.
Vincent's voice softened.
May you like
“Help isn't a debt.”
Evelyn began crying again.
