“Nora handled the books,” my brother said. “She needs to explain where the grant went.”
Graham sat across from me at the folding table in the theater office. He hadn’t looked at me when he said it. He looked at Celia Ward, our board chair, who had called the emergency meeting. Through the wall, I could hear someone moving scenery across the stage, a scrape followed by a careful thump.
I still had my coat on. I’d come straight over because Celia said we had a problem with the youth production’s money.
“What do you mean, where it went?” I asked.
“The four thousand eight hundred,” Celia said. “We need you to replace it. We can’t leave the children waiting while we sort out your records.”
She had a pen resting on an open notebook. I watched her lift it, ready to write down a date.
For six years I had done their books for free. I put receipts in order, chased missing invoices, and entered transactions after my own workday. I had helped prepare the budget for that restricted grant. I knew exactly how much we expected and what it was supposed to cover.
But Celia was asking when I could pay it back, not whether I’d taken it.
“Graham,” I said.
He rubbed the edge of the table with his thumb.
“We need to get this straightened out,” he said.
That was how my older brother spoke when he wanted me to stop arguing in front of other people. Keep your voice down. Help first. Discuss the unfairness afterward, when nobody could hear it.
I pulled my chair closer instead of taking off my coat.
“I haven’t received forty-eight hundred dollars.”
“Nobody wants to make this uglier than it is,” Celia said. “Can you cover it now and resolve the paperwork afterward?”
For a moment I actually counted what was in my savings. I am embarrassed by that. I was angry, and I was still calculating whether I could make the room comfortable again. Graham had brought me into the theater. I liked being the person who could find a receipt everyone else had given up on.
Then Celia turned her notebook toward me.
“No,” I said. “I’m not promising repayment for money you haven’t shown me.”
Her pen stopped.
“I record payments,” I continued. “I can’t send them. You and Graham have banking access. I don’t.”
“I know how our accounts work,” she said.
“Then let’s look at them.”
Graham leaned back. “This isn’t about who has a password.”
“It is if you’re saying I lost money.”
I wanted him to correct himself. Even then, I left space for it. He could have said he’d spoken badly, that he only meant there was a gap in my records. Instead he watched Celia close her notebook.
“Until we establish what happened, I’m suspending your bookkeeping access,” she told me.
I had expected that to feel less personal than it did. My hand was on my bag, where I kept the little folder of receipts I’d brought to enter that evening.
“Will you examine the bank records with me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“With me there. Not a summary afterward.”
She looked at Graham, then back at me. “Yes, Nora. With you there.”
I put the receipt folder on the table. It seemed wrong to take it home now, though surrendering it made me feel as if I had agreed with them.
Graham reached toward it.
“Leave that here,” I said.
He withdrew his hand. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
“Tell me what you think happened.”
“I think you misplaced the check before you recorded it. It never got deposited.”
There it was, finally. Something specific enough to check.
“Did you give me a check?”
“You handle the paperwork.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Things come through this office. You take them home sometimes. I’m not accusing you of doing anything deliberately.”
I looked down at the folder I had just handed over. There were theater papers on my kitchen table most weeks. He knew that. So did Celia. His explanation fit the habits they had been happy to rely on until that evening.
I tried to remember every envelope I’d opened lately. Nothing. That frightened me more than I wanted to admit. There wasn’t a way to remember not receiving something.
“We call the grant officer,” I said. “Together.”
Celia pulled her laptop closer. “June Park.”
“Ask whether they sent it, and whether it cleared.”
