She combed through the papers and put them in chronological order, and once she finished, she hoped to get a clear picture as to whether or not this could all be thrown away. Did people keep their bank statements?

But then, these weren’t just bank statements—they were records of investments. Louisa wasn’t a financial whiz like Daniel or even like her father, but she did understand at least some of what she was looking at. She sifted through page after page detailing Maggie’s profits and losses. She’d done well for several months—make that years—and then she hit some pretty substantial losses. Then a gap in the statements. Several months missing or unaccounted for, but then they picked back up again with a deposit of $52,675.

Louisa frowned. $52,675? It might not have caught her attention, but hadn’t Cody said his father’s withdrawals had been oddly numbered?

She flipped back to the previous statement and realized that a few weeks before this deposit was made, a withdrawal in the same exact amount had been made.

But why?

She scanned the page for anything out of the ordinary but found nothing. It was on the same letterhead, had the same form letter attached to it. The only things that changed were the dates and the account balance.

Louisa flipped to the next page and saw that Maggie started making money again after that, following months of losses. Each month, another profit. And then the statements stopped.

Was the account closed, or had this box simply gotten too full? She pulled another box, also marked Mail, from underneath the guest bed. She yanked the tape off and opened it up. Full of letters exactly like the ones she’d just opened.

Another epic sigh. Not that she regretted helping Maggie—she didn’t—but she did have a lot going on at the moment. The regatta. Maggie’s party. Her plan to make Cody fall in love with her. It was a full plate.

She took the statements out and began opening them, discarding the envelopes and unfolding the papers, same as she’d done before. As she did this mindless task, once again her imagination ran away from her. Back to the pond. Back to his strong arms. Back to that feeling of floating.

“Louisa?”

She spun around and found Cody standing in the doorway. She dropped some of the papers she’d been clutching. Was he real? Was she dreaming? Had he materialized out of thin air as a result of her foolish mental ramblings?

“Sorry; didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her face flushed and she tried to gather herself. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t hear the door.” How had she not heard the door? And could he tell by the look on her face she’d just gotten to the part of the daydream where they were about to start kissing?