Back in the room, I opened the cabinet.
I took the new phone out of its box and slipped in my own SIM card.
The first thing I did after powering it on was quit my weekend side job.
The second thing was call my brother.
"Quinn Sullivan, can you send me the contact info for that lawyer friend of yours?"
My money. I wasn't going to let anyone else walk away with a single cent of it.
"What's going on?"
Maybe something in my voice gave me away, because my brother picked up on it immediately.
"It's nothing. I'll tell you once I've sorted it out."
He didn't push. A second later, a business card popped up on my screen.
The lawyer called me back almost right away.
"So let me get this straight. You're not married, but every dollar you saved, you transferred to him?"
"And the down payment on the house includes your money?"
He must not have come across someone this lovesick and naive very often.
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"If you have the transaction records, this money shouldn't be too hard to recover."
"But did you include any notes with the transfers? Keywords like 'house purchase' or 'bride price,' anything like that?"
"Yes."
I was stupid.
But at least not that stupid.
Every time I transferred money to Marvin, I'd made sure to note what it was for and which installment it was.
Partly to keep my own records straight, and partly so I'd always know exactly how much I'd sent him in total.
"That makes things a lot easier. There's a very good chance you can get all of it back."
Hearing that loosened the knot in my chest a little.
"But the house isn't in my name. Can I still get my money back?"
Silence again on the other end.
After a long moment, he let out a sigh. "Girl, they don't make them as trusting as you anymore..."
I gave a bitter laugh and mumbled something back.
Yeah. I really was that naive.
"It's fine. The transaction records are what matter."
"Pull up all your transfer history and send it to me. And screenshots of your conversations with him too."
"Okay."
After I hung up, I opened my account and pulled everything.
I'd started transferring money to Marvin in August 2022.
First came the house fund. Fifty installments.
The house was in Marvin's hometown. A hundred and thirty-three hundred square feet, with a down payment of $130,000.
After that came the bride price. Fifteen installments.
Then there were the scattered transfers for things like renovations on his family's old house, appliances, plus three mortgage payments. Another $10,000 altogether.
Over the years, I'd sent Marvin a total of $100,000.
I dug up all the chat logs too and forwarded everything to Nathan Caldwell.
But something still didn't add up. The house had cost $130,000 as a down payment.
Where had Marvin gotten the other $98,000?
That evening, Marvin came home from work early.
He opened the door, saw me, and blinked. "Aren't you supposed to be on the late shift? Why are you home?"
I kept folding the clothes in my hands. "Oh, I quit."
"What happened? Was work getting to you?"
"It's nothing. It was just a side job. No big deal."
"We're not under that much pressure anymore anyway. No need to run yourself into the ground."
Marvin spoke in the same easy tone he always used, not a flicker of anything off in his eyes.
He smiled, ruffled my hair, and headed for the kitchen.
I sat on the couch and turned to watch his back as he busied himself at the stove.
Over the years, Marvin had treated me well enough. He cooked, he did the laundry, never let me lift a finger for any of it.
The only things he couldn't give me were a marriage and money.
"Marvin, I want to get married."
His hand on the spatula froze, just for a second.
He turned to look at me. "We will!"
"Next year. We'll do it next year!"
I didn't say anything else. I ate that meal with my mind somewhere far away.
