“I knew that credit card was funded by your personal savings.

I let Kieran convince me you had plenty to spare.”

“Let’s move past the credit card,” I said, leaning forward, “and speak openly about the foundation.” Constance let out a long breath, and her composure cracked.

“Years ago, our commercial real estate portfolio suffered catastrophic losses.

We were facing public bankruptcy.

I begged Alistair to allow temporary loans from the foundation to cover our payroll, and he refused to touch a single charitable dollar.” “So after he died, you began transferring the money anyway,” Bridgette said.

“I kept telling myself we’d pay every cent back once the market recovered,” Constance whispered.