Nathan pulled the account records that night. Over five months, Alyssa had used his login to pay thirty-seven thousand dollars in invoices to a small company called Ridgeline Interiors. It belonged to her cousin. Nathan read the invoices twice and went pale. Almost none of that money went into my suite. It went into a new home office inside the main house, with custom shelves, a standing desk, and a bathroom remodel.

The home equity loan was meant to cover the missing thirty-seven thousand before Nathan ever looked at the account. Once my money was gone and the suite was abandoned, Alyssa planned to finish the space as her studio, telling everyone I had simply changed my mind. Alyssa’s sister had known the whole time. The delays, the shrinking closet, and the missing stove were never accidents. She was building her space with my money.

Nathan canceled the loan the next morning, still within the legal cancellation window. He confronted Alyssa, and her cousin refunded most of the money after Nathan’s lawyer threatened a fraud claim. Alyssa moved in with her sister by Christmas. Nathan sent me the refunded portion that belonged to me, with a handwritten apology tucked inside the envelope. He also apologized for never asking where my stove went. He never once defended her.

I closed on the condo in January. It has bright windows, a little patio, and a real kitchen with a stove. Roland would have loved it. Liam’s room has dinosaur sheets and a nightlight shaped like the moon. Nathan comes over every Sunday with Liam, and we cook dinner together. Nathan says the unfinished suite will become a garden shed. I hope it grows tomatoes. Last week, Liam asked if this was Grandma’s house. I told him yes. Only mine.