At my son’s wedding in Seattle, the bride looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Starting tomorrow, you’re no longer part of this family. I’m the boss now—not you.” I smiled, walked away like it didn’t hurt, and canceled the $80,000 I’d promised for their first home—right there at the reception, while the music was still playing.

Or would he start to doubt?

Finally, Daniel spoke.

“Mom, I need some time to think about all of this. Can you give me a few days?”

It wasn’t the big moment I had hoped for, but it wasn’t complete rejection either.

“Of course,” I said. “But Daniel, while you’re thinking, I want you to check something.”

“Look at your bank accounts. Look at what’s been spent since you got engaged. Look at who’s been making the decisions about money.”

“Just look.”

I left before Amanda could stop me from planting that idea in Daniel’s head.

As I drove home, Ruth called me.

“Helen,” she said, voice tight, “I found something. You need to hear this right now.”

“What is it?” I asked, gripping the steering wheel.

“Amanda’s work history. She’s had eight jobs in five years. Every single time she left, there were questions about her expense accounts. No one ever pressed charges, but there’s definitely a pattern.”