She stood behind the counter reading the lease while people kept coming through the door, congratulating her and taking pictures. Then she got to the payment schedule. Every payment I’d made was there, including the ones that had come out of my account after she disappeared. She kept turning pages faster until she reached the last one. Her face changed when she saw the signature. She said it wasn’t hers. I told her I knew. That’s why I’d waited five years to hand it to her.
Her business partner stepped closer and asked what was in the envelope. I said he should already know, because his name was on the document too. He took one look and told her we could talk about it later. She asked why later, and he wouldn’t answer. Then I pulled out the second paper I’d brought. It was a letter from the leasing company confirming that someone had requested a transfer of the old lease the same week her first salon closed. The person who requested it had used her business information, but the new company wasn’t hers.
She looked at me and finally asked why I’d never told her. I said, “Because I didn’t know where the money went until last month.” The new company had been paying that old lease from an account connected to the salon she was opening now. Her business partner went pale and walked outside. She followed him, and ten minutes later she came back alone. She sat beside me and said, “Auntie, I need you to tell me exactly what happened five years ago.” I opened my purse and took out one final envelope. Inside was the bank statement showing where the twenty-six thousand dollars had actually gone.
