\u201cNot that I know of.\u201d
\nThe clerk nodded slowly.
\n\u201cThen before you do anything else, you need to speak with an attorney.\u201d
\nI tightened my fingers around the edge of the counter.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t have access to our money.\u201d
\n\u201cI understand.\u201d
\n\u201cNo,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cI mean I have forty-three dollars in my purse and maybe sixty dollars in an old savings account Travis forgot about. That\u2019s it.\u201d
\nHer expression changed.
\nNot pity.
\nConcern.
\nShe lowered her voice.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a legal aid office two blocks from here. And there are attorneys who offer initial consultations without charging. Take copies of everything you have. The deed. Bank statements. Tax records. Anything showing transfers.\u201d
\nI looked down at the deed.
\nFor nine years, I had treated that piece of paper like an old family document.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Suddenly, it felt like the first key to a door I hadn\u2019t realized was locked.
\n\u201cThank you.\u201d
\nI walked outside into the Louisiana heat.
\nMy truck felt like an oven.
\nI sat behind the steering wheel with the air conditioner blasting and stared at my phone.
\nThere were three messages from Travis.
\nThe first said:
\nWhy did you hang up?
\nThe second:
\nDon\u2019t start drama while I\u2019m working.
\nThe third arrived while I was reading the others.
\nWe\u2019ll talk when I get home.
\nThat sentence used to make my stomach tighten.
\nBecause \u201cwe\u2019ll talk\u201d never meant we would talk.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It meant Travis would explain why he was right until I became too tired to argue.
\nThis time, I typed two words.
\nSounds good.
\nThen I drove to the attorney\u2019s office.
\nHer name was Rebecca Sloan.
\nShe was probably in her late fifties, with silver-blond hair and the calmest voice I had ever heard.
\nFor nearly forty minutes, I told her everything.
\nThe closed joint account.
\nThe transferred money.
\nThe accounts I could no longer access.
\nThe property.
\nMy inheritance.
\nNine years of marriage.
\nNine years of maintaining the house.
\nNine years of Travis controlling nearly every financial decision.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Rebecca barely interrupted.
\nShe took notes.
\nThen she asked a question I wasn\u2019t expecting.
\n\u201cJune, do you know exactly how much money your husband has?\u201d
\nI almost laughed.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cRetirement?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cInvestment accounts?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cBonuses?\u201d
\n\u201cI know he gets them sometimes.\u201d
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d
\n\u201cHe never tells me.\u201d
\n\u201cLife insurance?\u201d
\n\u201cI think so.\u201d
\n\u201cEmployer benefits?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\n\u201cOther bank accounts?\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t know about the new one until today.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Rebecca leaned back.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s important.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause right now you\u2019re assuming you\u2019re the person without information.\u201d
\n\u201cAren\u2019t I?\u201d
\n\u201cFor the moment.\u201d
\nShe tapped her pen against her notebook.
\n\u201cBut financial records leave trails.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\nShe continued carefully.
\n\u201cIf you decide to pursue a divorce, there are formal processes for identifying marital assets and financial activity. Your husband doesn\u2019t get to make money disappear simply by moving it somewhere you can\u2019t see.\u201d
\nSomething inside my chest loosened.
\nJust slightly.
\n\u201cWhat about the house?\u201d
\nRebecca glanced at the deed.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cInherited property can be treated differently from marital property, depending on the facts and applicable Louisiana law. We\u2019d need to review the history carefully, including whether marital funds were used for improvements, debts, or reimbursements that might be claimed.\u201d
\nThat wasn\u2019t the simple answer I wanted.
\nBut it was an honest one.
\n\u201cSo I shouldn\u2019t change the locks and throw his things outside?\u201d
\nFor the first time, Rebecca smiled.
\n\u201cI would strongly advise against improvising.\u201d
\nI smiled too.
\nIt was the first time I had smiled all day.
\nThen she became serious again.
\n\u201cWhat you should do is document.\u201d
\n\u201cEverything?\u201d
\n\u201cEverything.\u201d
\nThat afternoon, I started.
\nI photographed every room.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Every appliance.
\nEvery piece of furniture.
\nThe tractor.
\nThe riding mower.
\nThe tools.
\nThe fishing equipment.
\nThe safe in Travis\u2019s closet.
\nHis watches.
\nThe truck.
\nThe utility trailer.
\nThen I found something I hadn\u2019t expected.
\nInside the filing cabinet in Travis\u2019s office was a folder labeled TAX.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I almost skipped it.
\nI had seen it dozens of times.
\nBut Rebecca had told me not to assume anything.
\nSo I opened it.
\nThere were tax returns.
\nPay statements.
\nInsurance paperwork.
\nAnd underneath them was a printed statement from an account I had never seen before.
\nThe balance at the top made me sit down.
\n$86,417.32.
\nI read it twice.
\nThen a third time.
\nThe statement was seven months old.
\nI flipped to the next page.
\nThere were deposits from Travis\u2019s employer.
\nTransfers.
\nAutomatic contributions.
\nAnd one large deposit that made my hands go cold.
\n$24,000.
\nThe date was familiar.
\nI opened the calendar on my phone.
\nThat was the same month Travis had told me we couldn\u2019t afford to replace our failing upstairs air-conditioning unit.
\nI remembered sleeping downstairs for nearly three weeks because the bedrooms were unbearable.
\nI remembered Travis telling me over the phone, \u201cMoney doesn\u2019t grow on trees, June.\u201d
\nTwenty-four thousand dollars had landed in an account I didn\u2019t know existed.
\nI photographed every page.
\nThen I found another statement.
\nDifferent institution.
\nAnother account.
\n$31,806.
\nI sat alone in that office while the ceiling fan turned above me.
\nAll those years I had believed we were barely staying ahead.
\nAll those times I put groceries back.
\nAll those times I waited.
\nAll those times I felt guilty for spending fifty dollars without asking.
\nWe had money.
\nI simply hadn\u2019t been allowed to know about it.
\nMy phone rang.
\nTravis.
\nI stared at his name.
\nThen answered.
\n\u201cHey.\u201d
\nHis tone was cheerful now.
\nToo cheerful.
\n\u201cYou calm down?\u201d
\nI looked at the statements spread across the desk.
\n\u201cI was never upset.\u201d
\n\u201cJune.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cYou know how you get.\u201d
\nI almost laughed.
\nInstead, I said, \u201cWhy did you close our joint account?\u201d
\nA pause.
\n\u201cI told you.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. You told me you earn the money.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s the truth.\u201d
\n\u201cSo where did you move it?\u201d
\nAnother pause.
\nLonger this time.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m asking.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s handled.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere?\u201d
\n\u201cJune, I\u2019m ninety miles offshore. I don\u2019t have time for an interrogation.\u201d
\nThen I heard another man laughing somewhere behind him.
\nTravis lowered his voice.
\n\u201cYou have a roof over your head, food in the refrigerator, a truck, electricity. What exactly are you complaining about?\u201d
\nI looked through the office window toward the oak trees my father had planted.
\n\u201cNothing.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s what I thought.\u201d
\nHe sounded satisfied.
\nThen he said the sentence that changed everything.
\n\u201cAnd don\u2019t worry about the accounts. When I get home, we\u2019ll set you up with a spending card.\u201d
\nA spending card.
\nLike I was sixteen.
\nLike he was giving me an allowance.
\nI closed my eyes.
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cHow much would I be allowed to spend?\u201d
\nHe chuckled.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. Maybe five hundred a month. We\u2019ll figure it out.\u201d
\n\u201cFor groceries?\u201d
\n\u201cFor everything.\u201d
\nI opened my eyes.
\n\u201cOkay.\u201d
\n\u201cThere you go. See? No reason to turn this into a whole thing.\u201d
\n\u201cNo reason at all.\u201d
\nWe hung up.
\nI immediately wrote down the date, time, and everything I remembered from the conversation.
\nThen I called Rebecca.
\n\u201cI found accounts.\u201d
\n\u201cHow many?\u201d
\n\u201cTwo so far.\u201d
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d
\nI told her.
\nSilence.
\nThen she said, \u201cPhotograph everything and put copies somewhere he cannot access.\u201d
\n\u201cI already did.\u201d
\n\u201cGood.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd Rebecca?\u201d
\n\u201cYes?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m ready.\u201d
\nAnother short silence.
\n\u201cReady for what?\u201d
\nI looked around the office Travis had treated like his command center for nine years.
\n\u201cWhatever comes next.\u201d
\nThe next morning, I returned to Rebecca\u2019s office.
\nThis time, I didn\u2019t leave with questions.
\nI left with a plan.
\nThe first thing I did was open an account in my own name with the little money I had left.
\nThe second was redirect my personal mail to a secure mailbox.
\nThe third was change passwords on my email, phone account, cloud storage, and every personal service Travis had ever known the password to.
\nThen I began pulling records.
\nProperty taxes.
\nInsurance.
\nUtility bills.
\nReceipts.
\nContractor invoices.
\nMaintenance records.
\nAnything connected to the house or our finances.
\nAnd something strange happened.
\nThe more paperwork I gathered, the less afraid I became.
\nFear had survived on confusion.
\nTravis had always made money sound complicated.
\nHe used words like allocations, deductions, rollover, withholding, and cash flow as if they belonged to a language I could never understand.
\nBut numbers weren\u2019t magic.
\nThey were numbers.
\nAnd once I started reading them, they told a story.
\nA very different story from the one my husband had been telling me.
\nOn day six of Travis\u2019s offshore hitch, I discovered he had received more than $47,000 in bonuses over the previous three years.
\nOn day seven, I found records showing he had increased his retirement contributions while telling me we couldn\u2019t afford dental work I had postponed.
\nOn day eight, I found a credit card in his name with thousands of dollars in charges I had never seen.
\nRestaurants.
\nHotels.
\nSporting goods.
\nJewelry.
\nI stopped when I reached the jewelry charge.
\n$3,860.
\nNew Orleans.
\nI checked the date.
\nTravis had supposedly been attending a safety training seminar in Lafayette.
\nI stared at the receipt for a long time.
\nThen I photographed it.
\nI didn\u2019t call him.
\nI didn\u2019t accuse him.
\nI didn\u2019t cry.
\nI had finally learned something important.
\nInformation was more useful before the other person knew you had it.
\nBy day ten, Travis had started getting suspicious.
\n\u201cYou sound weird,\u201d he said during our evening call.
\n\u201cI\u2019m tired.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat have you been doing?\u201d
\n\u201cStuff around the property.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat stuff?\u201d
\n\u201cThe usual.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you pay the electric bill?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWith what?\u201d
\nThat question almost made me smile.
\n\u201cYou left enough in the household account.\u201d
\n\u201cGood.\u201d
\nThen he added, \u201cI need you to send me a picture of the title for the utility trailer.\u201d
\nMy fingers tightened around the phone.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cI might sell it.\u201d
\n\u201cFor how much?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know yet.\u201d
\n\u201cYou bought that trailer after we were married.\u201d
\n\u201cSo?\u201d
\n\u201cSo I\u2019m asking.\u201d
\nHis voice hardened.
\n\u201cJune, don’t start this again.\u201d
\nI went quiet.
\nThen I said, \u201cOkay.\u201d
\nHe relaxed immediately.
\nThat was the strangest part.
\nEvery time I said okay, he believed he had won.
\nHe had no idea \u201cokay\u201d had become the most dangerous word in our marriage.
\nOn day twelve, a courier arrived at Rebecca\u2019s office with records we had requested through the appropriate legal process.
\nOn day thirteen, she called me.
\n\u201cCan you come in?\u201d
\nHer voice sounded different.
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019d rather show you.\u201d
\nI drove there immediately.
\nRebecca was waiting with a yellow legal pad and several documents.
\nShe closed her office door.
\n\u201cJune, I need you to look at this.\u201d
\nShe slid a document across the desk.
\nI recognized Travis\u2019s name.
\nThen I saw another name.
\nA company.
\nHale Coastal Holdings LLC.
\nI frowned.
\n\u201cWhat is this?\u201d
\n\u201cAn LLC registered approximately fourteen months ago.\u201d
\n\u201cTravis owns a company?\u201d
\n\u201cIt appears he created one.\u201d
\n\u201cFor what?\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s what we\u2019re trying to determine.\u201d
\nShe turned another page toward me.
\nThere was an address.
\nI recognized it.
\nIt belonged to Travis\u2019s cousin, Eric.
\n\u201cWhy would he use Eric\u2019s address?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nThen Rebecca placed one more document on the desk.
\nA transaction record.
\nMy mouth went dry.
\nThree months earlier, $62,000 had been transferred into an account connected to Hale Coastal Holdings.
\n\u201cWhere did that money come from?\u201d
\nRebecca met my eyes.
\n\u201cWe\u2019re still tracing it.\u201d
\nI thought about every conversation we had had about money.
\nEvery time Travis said we were stretched thin.
\nEvery time he made me justify groceries.
\nEvery time he reminded me that he was the provider.
\n\u201cDoes he know we found this?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cGood.\u201d
\nRebecca watched me carefully.
\n\u201cYou understand this may become more complicated before it becomes clearer.\u201d
\n\u201cI understand.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you safe when he comes home?\u201d
\nThat question landed harder than I expected.
\nTravis had never hit me.
\nBut suddenly, I understood why she was asking.
\n\u201cI think so.\u201d
\n\u201cThinking so isn\u2019t enough. We\u2019ll make a plan.\u201d
\nSo we did.
\nBy day fifteen, important documents were outside the house.
\nMy father\u2019s photographs.
\nMy mother\u2019s jewelry.
\nMy birth certificate.
\nFamily records.
\nAnything irreplaceable.
\nMy closest friend, Marlene, knew what was happening.
\nSo did my brother, Caleb.
\nFor the first time in years, other people knew the truth about my marriage.
\nAnd Travis still knew nothing.
\nOn day sixteen, he called.
\n\u201cOne more sleep,\u201d he said happily.
\nI was standing in the kitchen.
\nHis favorite coffee mug was still beside the sink.
\n\u201cYep.\u201d
\n\u201cYou picking me up tomorrow?\u201d
\nNormally, I drove nearly an hour to meet the company transport.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nSilence.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cI have an appointment.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat appointment?\u201d
\n\u201cSomething I need to handle.\u201d
\n\u201cYou can move it.\u201d
\n\u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d
\nHis voice changed.
\n\u201cJune.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been offshore for three weeks.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you’re telling me you can’t pick up your husband?\u201d
\n\u201cThere\u2019ll be transportation.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s not the point.\u201d
\nI looked through the window at the long gravel driveway.
\nFor nine years, I had rearranged my life around Travis\u2019s schedule.
\nTomorrow would be different.
\n\u201cI\u2019ll see you when you get home.\u201d
\nThen I hung up.
\nAt 10:17 the next morning, exactly seventeen days after Travis laughed and told me he controlled the money, a black company SUV turned onto my driveway.
\nI watched from behind the living-room curtain.
\nTravis climbed out carrying his duffel bag.
\nHe looked exhausted.
\nThen he looked toward the house.
\nAnd stopped.
\nBecause there was a car parked beside mine.
\nRebecca\u2019s.
\nHe stared at it.
\nThen at the second vehicle.
\nMy brother\u2019s.
\nThen his eyes moved toward the front door.
\nI stepped onto the porch.
\nTravis smiled uncertainly.
\n\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d
\nI didn\u2019t answer.
\nHe walked closer.
\n\u201cJune?\u201d
\nThen he noticed the envelope taped to the inside of the storm door.
\nHis name was written across the front.
\nHis smile disappeared.
\nHe dropped his duffel beside the steps.
\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d
\n\u201cSomething you need to read.\u201d
\nHe opened the door.
\nPulled down the envelope.
\nTore it open.
\nI watched his eyes move across the first page.
\nOnce.
\nTwice.
\nThen he looked at me.
\n\u201cWhat the hell is this?\u201d
\n\u201cThe conversation you said we\u2019d have when you got home.\u201d
\nHis face reddened.
\n\u201cYou filed?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cYou filed for divorce?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nHe laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
\n\u201cYou don\u2019t have any money.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cYou don’t even have access to the accounts.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cThen what exactly do you think you\u2019re going to do?\u201d
\nI looked past him toward the workshop my father had built with his own hands.
\nThen back at the man who had spent nine years convincing me his paycheck meant he owned my life.
\n\u201cI\u2019m going to find out where our money went.\u201d
\nFor the first time, Travis looked nervous.
\nIt lasted less than a second.
\nBut I saw it.
\nThen he shook his head.
\n\u201cYou have no idea what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d
\n\u201cMaybe.\u201d
\nHe shoved the papers back into the envelope.
\n\u201cThis is my house too.\u201d
\nI said nothing.
\nHe stepped closer.
\n\u201cI’ve paid for this place for nine years.\u201d
\nStill, I said nothing.
\nHis voice rose.
\n\u201cYou think you can just take everything because your daddy left your name on some piece of paper?\u201d
\nBehind me, the front door opened.
\nRebecca stepped onto the porch.
\nTravis froze.
\nShe introduced herself.
\nThen she calmly explained that all questions concerning the divorce and property disputes should go through the appropriate legal channels.
\nTravis barely listened.
\nHe was staring at me.
\n\u201cYou planned this.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cYou planned what happened before this.\u201d
\nHis expression changed.
\nI continued.
\n\u201cYou removed me from our accounts. You moved money. You changed the property-tax contact information. You decided I wasn\u2019t entitled to know anything.\u201d
\nHis jaw tightened.
\n\u201cSo I started finding out.\u201d
\nHis eyes flicked toward Rebecca.
\nThen back to me.
\n\u201cHow much do you know?\u201d
\nThere it was.
\nNot:
\nWhat are you talking about?
\nNot:
\nYou\u2019re wrong.
\nNot:
\nThere\u2019s nothing to find.
\nHow much do you know?
\nI felt something cold settle inside me.
\n\u201cEnough.\u201d
\nHe picked up his duffel.
\n\u201cI\u2019m going inside.\u201d
\nRebecca spoke calmly.
\n\u201cMr. Hale, before you do, there are several matters you should review with counsel.\u201d
\n\u201cThis is my home.\u201d
\n\u201cThe ownership and occupancy issues will be addressed through the proper process.\u201d
\nTravis turned toward me.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re really doing this?\u201d
\nI thought about the woman standing in the tax-office parking lot seventeen days earlier.
\nThe woman with forty-three dollars in her purse.
\nThe woman who had been terrified because her husband controlled the money.
\nShe felt like someone I had known years ago.
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nTravis stared at me.
\nThen something unexpected happened.
\nHis anger vanished.
\nCompletely.
\nHis face went pale.
\nHe slowly lowered his duffel.
\n\u201cJune.\u201d
\nI had never heard him say my name like that.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nHe glanced at Rebecca.
\nThen Caleb.
\nThen back at me.
\n\u201cWe need to talk alone.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cPlease.\u201d
\nThat word sounded strange coming from him.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nHe swallowed.
\n\u201cBecause there are things you don’t understand.\u201d
\n\u201cAbout Hale Coastal Holdings?\u201d
\nHis face changed instantly.
\nRebecca saw it.
\nCaleb saw it.
\nAnd I definitely saw it.
\nTravis didn’t speak.
\nI took one step closer.
\n\u201cSixty-two thousand dollars, Travis.\u201d
\nHis lips parted.
\n\u201cHow did you\u2014\u201d
\nHe stopped himself.
\nToo late.
\n\u201cWhere did it come from?\u201d
\nHe stared at me.
\nThen he looked toward the driveway as though calculating whether he could simply leave.
\nFinally, he whispered, \u201cJune, that money isn’t what you think.\u201d
\n\u201cThen tell me what it is.\u201d
\n\u201cI can’t.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\nHe looked straight into my eyes.
\nAnd what he said next made the secret bank accounts suddenly seem like the smallest problem in our marriage.
\n\u201cBecause some of that money wasn’t mine.\u201d……………………………<\/p>\n
\u201cNot that I know of.\u201d The clerk nodded slowly. \u201cThen before you do anything else, you need to speak with an attorney.\u201d I tightened my fingers around the edge of … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5199,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[31,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7364","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aita","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7364","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7364"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7364\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7371,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7364\/revisions\/7371"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7364"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7364"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7364"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}