In a Hartford Courtroom, Grant Wanted the House Until a Little Purple Toy Started Playing
Grant gave a quiet, dry laugh that lasted barely two seconds.
“You’re getting needlessly paranoid over standard security measures, Emily.”
“This isn’t paranoia, Grant.
Forty-one thousand dollars left our joint account on Monday, and today I can’t even print a bank receipt.”
“No money is missing from our household,” he said, his tone calm and thoroughly reasonable.
“The forty-one thousand dollars was moved to balance the corporate land holding accounts before our third-quarter tax filing.”
“Then why change the electronic account permissions yesterday afternoon at four o’clock?”
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