He set a thick manila folder on the glass desk between us.

“Mrs.

Vance, I asked you both here because our internal audit flagged another movement of funds this morning,” Samuel said.

“The forty-five thousand from the business reserve?” I asked.

“That forty-five thousand was transferred straight into six-year-old Leo’s college trust account last Tuesday,” Samuel said, pushing his glasses back onto his nose.

Martha leaned forward in her leather chair.

“And where is that trust balance now?”

“It isn’t anywhere,” Samuel said, opening the folder.