Then a few clothes.
Medication.
Noah’s inhaler.
Copies of school records.
Lily’s favorite stuffed rabbit.
A spare laptop.
Chargers.
A hospital bag.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing Adrian would notice.
The children knew nothing.
I did not want them carrying my fear.
Meanwhile, I began noticing the financial pattern.
Adrian had not simply moved one transfer.
He had changed passwords on accounts we had both used for years.
My credit card began requiring his approval for unusually ordinary purchases.
A grocery order over a certain amount generated a message from him.
Once, after I bought new shoes for Noah and maternity clothes for myself, Adrian texted:
You need to slow down.
I sent:
On children’s shoes?
He replied:
On acting like money appears automatically.
