Brenda laughed, loud and mocking.

“Return what, Robert?

Gaby is married to my son.

Whatever she owns belongs to the family.”

“And the nine hundred thousand dollars from her account?” I asked, gently.

“I used it for family expenses,” Derek said, with a careless shrug.

“Did she authorize that in writing?” “I’m her husband.

I don’t need her permission to move money.” From my shirt pocket, an automated voice suddenly announced: Device storage memory is full. Derek’s smile vanished; Brenda’s eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion.