Some moments divide your life into “before” and “after,” though when they’re happening, you rarely recognize them. For me, it started as an ordinary week and ended with questions I never thought I’d have to ask.The kitchen was quiet that Tuesday morning, the kind of quiet I usually loved. I had my coffee, my laptop, and 20 minutes before work. That’s when I noticed the first withdrawal by accident.Six hundred dollars. Gone from my daughter Harper’s college fund.I scrolled up, then down, then up again, as if the number might rearrange itself if I stared at it long enough.My husband, Owen, and I had been saving into that account since the day our daughter came home from the hospital.Harper was 16 now, already talking about college as if it were a train waiting specifically for her.”Mom,” she called from the stairs, “did you print my SAT practice sheet?””On the counter, sweetheart.”She breezed in, her ponytail swinging, and grabbed the sheet and a banana.

Harper kissed the top of my head as if she were the parent.”Coach said scholarship season starts junior year. We’re getting ahead.””We sure are,” I said, and tried to smile.I waited until she left for school, then carried my laptop into the living room, where Owen was tying his shoes.”Owen, something’s off with Harper’s fund. Six hundred dollars is missing.”He glanced up, then back down at his laces. “Missing how?””Withdrawn. Last Friday.”We’re getting ahead.”My husband stood, brushed past me toward the kitchen, and poured the last of the coffee.Has to be a bank error, Claire. Those things happen. I’ll call them today.””You sure? Because that’s a lot for an error.”He kissed my cheek, quick and light.”I’ll handle it.”Owen closed his laptop a little too fast as I walked behind him, the screen going dark before I could see it. I told myself I was being paranoid.We’d been married for 18 solid years.