Chapter 1

"What debt?" Roger Kemp held his teacup and looked at me blankly.

I thought he had not heard me, so I repeated myself, "The money my parents owed you. The payment I've been sending to your account every month."

He set his cup down, and his brows furrowed even deeper. "Josie, your parents never owed me any money."

I froze for a moment, then took out my phone and held it up in front of him. "It's this one. It goes out on the 15th of every month. Haven't you been getting it?"

He leaned in for a look, and his expression turned grave. "Josie, this isn't my account. There was a debt between your parents and me, but I was the one who owed them, and I paid it all back before they passed."

There had never been any debt? Then where had all the money I sent over the years gone?

My whole body went rigid as a chill shot up my spine and spread through me. I clenched my hands until my knuckles turned white, and my voice came out as though I had to force it from my throat, trembling no matter how hard I tried to hold it steady.

"Then maybe I remembered wrong. Maybe it's someone else's account?"

"Someone else? As far as I know, your parents didn't have any debts at all. Did somebody scam you?"

When I met Roger's worried gaze, something clicked in my head like a gear slipping out of place. A thought slowly took shape in my mind.

Aunt Marlene had been lying to me.

I had to find out the truth.

Roger looked anxious, but I could no longer make out what he was saying. I mumbled that I was fine and hurried off.

I did not slow down. I walked faster and faster until I was practically running into the nearest bank. My fingers were still shaking when I handed over my ID.

"I need to know who's receiving the recurring transfer from my account."

The teller worked quickly and pulled up several years of statements in no time. "You have a fixed monthly transfer set up. The account holder is Ronald Hatch."

Ronald Hatch. The moment I heard that name, my first thought was that I had heard wrong.

"What did you say?" I leaned forward, my voice tight.

The teller turned the screen a little more toward me and pointed at the name. "Ronald Hatch. Do you know him?"

I stared at the name, and my eyes went wide.

I knew him. Of course, I did.

He was Aunt Marlene's ex-husband, the man who had vanished without a trace after the divorce and never showed up again, not even for the holidays.

Still, why him?

After Mom and Dad died, Aunt Marlene took me in. She was never especially kind to me. She kept me fed and paid for my schooling, and that was about it.

She covered my tuition and living expenses, but every time she handed me money, it felt like charity, and she never once said a gentle word.

The line I heard from her most often while I was growing up was, "It isn't easy for me either, but with your parents gone, I can't just leave you on your own."

I had grown used to it. Living under someone else's roof, I never dared to ask for anything, and I certainly never hoped she would treat me like her own child.

I kept her kindness close to my heart and told myself that once I graduated, I would repay her twice over.

Never once had I imagined that this debt of gratitude had been drawn up long before.

The summer after my sophomore year of college, I stumbled across a ledger in her drawer. It was neatly filled out with names, amounts, and dates, all recorded down to the cent.

Altogether, it came to more than one million dollars. Below that was a record of repayments going back years, one for every month, all in clear handwriting.