He walked toward it.
Opened the lid.
Stared inside.
For several seconds, he looked at the white bottom panel.
My heart nearly stopped.
Then he closed it.
“That’s a lot of soup.”
“Mom made it every week.”
Greg looked at me carefully.
“Did Mom ever tell you anything about money?”
“What money?”
“Cash. Savings.”
He rubbed his neck.
“I’ve been going through her accounts. There’s less money than there should be. A lot less.”
“How much?”
“Maybe sixty thousand.”
I stared at him.
“She could have spent it.”
“No.”
His eyes moved around the basement.
“She withdrew it. Small amounts over time. A thousand. Two thousand. Sometimes more.”
Then he looked at the freezer.
“She hid things. You remember. Coffee cans. Drawers. She even put her passport in the freezer once.”
Vanessa stood motionless beside the stairs.
“I’ve searched the entire house,” Greg continued. “Every drawer. Every closet. Every box.”
