Chapter 13 - Northstar
Northstar Family Services had existed only on paper.
But paper could steal real money.
Nathan sat across from a forensic accountant while every fraudulent payment appeared on a screen.
The first had been small.
$3,800.
“Educational consultation.”
Then $6,200.
“Child adjustment evaluation.”
Then $7,450.
“Specialized tutoring package.”
Each amount was large enough to matter but small enough not to shock someone accustomed to private-school expenses.
Nathan had not reviewed the statements closely.
Monica had.
She had learned his tolerance.
By the sixth payment, she increased the amount.
By the twelfth, she was taking more than fifteen thousand dollars at a time.
The accountant pointed toward the screen.
“This pattern is common in internal financial fraud.”
Nathan flinched at the phrase.
Internal.
The thief had slept beside him.
“She starts by testing the control.”
“Yes.”
“When nothing happens, she increases.”
“Yes.”
Nathan looked away.
The accountant did not judge him.
That almost made it worse.
“Can we recover it?”
“Some.”
The condominium had equity.
Several expensive items remained identifiable.
A brokerage account connected to Monica held around thirty-one thousand dollars.
But some money had paid old debt.
Some had been spent.
Restitution could be ordered eventually, but an order was not magic.
Money could not always be resurrected.
Nathan surprised himself.
“Protect what’s left for Hailey first.”
His attorney nodded.
“We’re petitioning to add an independent co-trustee.”
Nathan looked at him.
“Replace me if necessary.”
Dorothy, seated nearby, turned.
The attorney paused.
“You don’t necessarily need to resign.”
“I failed to monitor it.”
“That doesn’t mean you participated.”
“It means one person had too much control.”
Nathan looked at the trust statement.
“I’m not going to solve that by insisting I deserve the same control because I feel guilty.”
Dorothy said nothing.
But pride softened her face.
The new structure eventually proposed was simple.
Nathan remained involved in decisions affecting Hailey.
A professional trust company handled large disbursements and audits.
No significant transfer could occur without independent review.
Hailey’s future would no longer depend on one adult’s password.
Meanwhile, investigators examined Northstar’s records.
Monica had created fake service logs.
Some were almost laughably generic.
Hailey resistant to authority.
Hailey requires extended intervention.
Family conflict worsening.
Others were more sophisticated.
They referenced real school assignments.
Real teacher names.
Real events.
Monica had mixed truth with lies.
That made them credible.
Nathan read one.
Client demonstrated emotional fixation on deceased mother, interfering with bonding to current maternal figure.
His vision blurred.
Dorothy saw the sentence.
“She wrote that?”
“Yes.”
Dorothy’s mouth tightened.
“Hailey talks about her mother because she loved her.”
“I know.”
“Grief is not disobedience.”
“I know.”
Nathan remembered times Monica had complained that Hailey “lived in the past.”
He had responded by gently encouraging Hailey to “give Monica a chance.”
Now those memories sickened him.
He had unknowingly reinforced Monica’s message.
Move on.
Stop mentioning your mother.
Make the new family easier.
That night he entered Hailey’s room.
The white chair was gone.
The mirror was gone.
The desk now faced the window.
A photograph of Hailey’s mother sat beside a lamp.
Monica used to keep it in a drawer.
Nathan had not known.
Hailey was reading.
He pointed toward the photograph.
“Do you like it there?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She studied him.
“Monica said it made you sad.”
“It does.”
Hailey looked worried.
Nathan sat at the edge of the doorway.
“Sad isn’t always bad.”
She waited.
“Sometimes being sad means somebody mattered.”
Hailey looked at the picture.
“Do you still love Mom?”
Nathan swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did that make Monica mad?”
“Yes.”
“Was that wrong?”
“No.”
Hailey looked relieved.
Nathan continued.
“Loving someone who died doesn’t steal love from anyone living.”
Hailey smiled faintly.
“Grandma wrote that.”
“I know.”
“She says you steal her good lines.”
Nathan laughed.
From the hallway Dorothy shouted, “Constantly.”
Hailey giggled.
Then she became serious.
“Did Monica love me before?”
Nathan took his time.
“I think she may have cared about you in some ways.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
Hailey waited.
“I don’t know what Monica felt.”
“Can someone love you and still do bad things?”
“Yes.”
“Then does the love matter?”
Nathan looked at his daughter.
“Love that doesn’t protect your safety isn’t enough.”
Hailey absorbed that.
“You loved Monica.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re divorcing her.”
“Yes.”
“Because she hurt me?”
“Yes.”
Hailey’s eyes filled.
Nathan stayed where he was.
Then she whispered, “I thought you’d pick her.”
His heart broke.
“Why?”
“She said wives come first.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
When he opened them, Hailey was watching him carefully.
“She was wrong.”
Hailey nodded.
Nathan added, “But I understand why you believed her.”
That mattered more.
He was not asking Hailey to rewrite her fear simply because he had finally learned the truth.
The next morning, Detective Ortiz arrived with another development.
Northstar’s computer files included a spreadsheet Monica had used to track the fraudulent invoices.
The final line was highlighted.
$320,000 — FINAL.
Beside it, Monica had written:
After this, close everything.
Nathan stared.
That confirmed the transfer was intended as the end.
But another column changed the case again.
It contained dates marked H OUT.
Eleven dates.
Exactly the eleven days Hailey had been absent from school.
The financial theft and the child’s isolation had never been separate schemes.
Monica had removed Hailey from school on the days she worked on Northstar records because Hailey had become too dangerous to leave around teachers who might ask questions.
The false behavioral history had hidden the absences.
The absences had enabled the fraud.
May you like
And the fraud had made Monica desperate enough to try to make Hailey disappear for two final days.
Everything connected.
