“But your email wasn’t really about the lottery money, was it?”
“No,” I admitted. “It wasn’t.”
“You want information.”
“Exactly.”
There was a brief pause on the line.
“Tell me about them,” he said.
So, I did.
I told him about Margaret Reed, the country club dinners, the obsession with appearances, the way she treated Victoria like royalty and spoke about me like I was a permanent embarrassment.
Then I told him about my sister, Victoria Reed, the golden child, the real estate agent who constantly bragged about million-dollar property deals and luxury clients.
And finally, Daniel, my brother, the charming, successful sales director who lectured everyone about financial discipline while quietly controlling every dollar his wife earned.
When I finished, Jonathan was silent for a moment. Then he said something that made my stomach tighten.
“Families like yours are rarely as financially secure as they appear.”
“What do you mean?”
“Appearances are expensive,” he replied. “Country club memberships, luxury cars, private schools, designer clothing. Those things require constant cash flow. And if that cash flow disappears, they borrow.”
I sat up straighter.
“You think they’re in debt?”
“I think,” Jonathan said calmly, “there’s a strong possibility their financial reality doesn’t match the image they’re projecting.”
That idea had honestly never crossed my mind before. My family had always acted like they were untouchable, wealthy, superior.
But what if—
Jonathan interrupted my thoughts.
“My team can conduct a full forensic financial investigation.”
“What does that involve?”
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