larger envelope with my name on it.
Inside, I found a bank statement.
At some point, Ezra had stopped keeping cash in the envelopes and had begun depositing the money into a separate savings account.
The balance was more than sixty-one thousand dollars.
My hands began to shake.
“This can’t be right,” I whispered.
Rachel reviewed the document.
“It has your name on it.”
“I didn’t earn this.”
“You paid for twelve years of groceries.”
“That wasn’t a loan.”
Before Rachel could answer, Emma reached into the suitcase.
“There’s something