“It wasn’t applied to my account.”
I gripped the counter.
“What?”
“They received the money. It went to a student account. Just not mine.”
“Whose?”
“They wouldn’t tell me.”
Of course they couldn’t give her another student’s financial information.
Still, how had Graham sent the exact amount Harper owed to her university, only for it to land in someone else’s account?
“Maybe he entered the wrong student information,” I suggested.
“Maybe.”
Neither of us sounded convinced.
For the next few days, we said nothing to Graham.
There had to be an ordinary explanation.
Then, on Wednesday afternoon, Harper called me from campus.
“Mom.”
Something in her voice scared me.
“What happened?”
“Dad’s here.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He’s on campus.”
The same man who had been “too busy” to visit his daughter for months was suddenly there in the middle of a weekday.
“Are you sure?”
“I can see him.”
“Did he see you?”
“No.”
Then her voice dropped.
“He’s with someone.”
“Who?”
“A guy about my age.”
I tried to find a reasonable explanation.
Maybe he was a student Graham knew through work.
Then Harper went silent.
“Harper?”
Nothing.
“Talk to me.”
When she finally spoke, her voice sounded smaller.
“Mom… Dad just hugged him.”
I didn’t know what to say.
My husband had secretly paid money to another student’s account.
He had time to visit campus, just never his own daughter.
And now, Harper had watched him hug a young man around her age.
By then, both of us were thinking the same terrible thing.
Another family.
I left work early.
Graham came home just after 6:00 p.m., carrying his laptop bag and acting completely normal.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
I was waiting in the kitchen.
“Who is he?”
His face changed.
