Harry's POV

I did not plan to confront her that night.

The truth is I had spent the entire afternoon telling myself I needed more proof. More certainty. More distance between suspicion and accusation. But suspicion has a way of fermenting. It sits. It sours. It demands air.

I found the missing funds while pretending not to look for them.

That is how most betrayals reveal themselves. Quietly. Casually. Like they assume you will not notice.

The numbers did not scream. They whispered. Small ...