Refrigerator.<\/p>\n
The faint scrape of Emma opening the cookie tin.<\/p>\n
My breath.<\/p>\n
Arthur\u2019s clock.<\/p>\n
Tick.<\/p>\n
Tick.<\/p>\n
Tick.<\/p>\n
\u201cSince when?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLast August.\u201d<\/p>\n
Last August.<\/p>\n
I remembered last August. Emma had stayed with me for three days while Serena attended something called a leadership retreat. Wesley had come by with flowers. He had hugged me too long. I thought grief had finally softened him.<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
He had needed documents.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout eighty-four thousand through that line. Not all spent. Some moved. Some collateralized.\u201d<\/p>\n
The words meant little and everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happens now that I\u2019ve stopped it?\u201d<\/p>\n
His silence answered first.<\/p>\n
Then he said, \u201cIt triggers review.\u201d<\/p>\n
Serena opened the front door without knocking.<\/p>\n
Her face was different now.<\/p>\n
The polish had cracked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWesley,\u201d she said. \u201cOutside. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood slowly.<\/p>\n
I did too.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you know?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n
She stared at me. \u201cKnow what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat my son forged my authorization.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wesley turned. \u201cMom\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Serena\u2019s eyes went to him.<\/p>\n
There. Not surprise.<\/p>\n
Calculation.<\/p>\n
Then fury, not at the crime, but at its exposure.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told her?\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat back down.<\/p>\n
My legs had decided without consulting me.<\/p>\n
Wesley looked sick.<\/p>\n
Serena shut the door behind her.<\/p>\n
Emma appeared in the pantry doorway with a cookie in each hand.<\/p>\n
No one spoke.<\/p>\n
Serena saw her daughter and adjusted her face.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmma, go to the car.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emma looked at me.<\/p>\n
I nodded once, though it hurt.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake your rabbit,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She came to hug me first\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026..<\/p>\n
Refrigerator. The faint scrape of Emma opening the cookie tin. My breath. Arthur\u2019s clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. \u201cSince when?\u201d \u201cLast August.\u201d Last August. I remembered last August. Emma had stayed … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":894,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1866","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1866","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1866"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1866\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1870,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1866\/revisions\/1870"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/894"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1866"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1866"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1866"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}