“Mr. Hale,” Julian said, his voice perfectly level, perfectly audible in the sudden silence. “Do you know where you are?”
Arthur’s face went white again, faster this time. He recognized the name. Or the room. Or the two men who had quietly moved to block the door behind him.
Lydia grabbed Arthur’s arm.
“We’re leaving,” she hissed at me. “Nora, don’t be dramatic. You are embarrassing yourself. In a place like this—”
I stood.
My legs held.
I held my grandmother’s letter in one hand and the bank statements in the other.
“Did you buy her a bracelet with my grandmother’s money?” I asked Lydia. My voice carried. “The one you’re wearing under your sleeve right now?”
Lydia’s hand flew to her wrist.
“No,” she said, too fast. “Arthur gave it to me, it was a—”
“It was charged to my joint account on the fourteenth,” I said. “You told him to get me to sign a loan paper. What loan, Lydia?”
Arthur stepped forward, hands up, placating.
“Nora, baby, you’re misunderstanding, you’re upset, these people are confusing you—”
“Don’t call me baby,” I said. The cold in my voice surprised even me. “You put my apartment up as collateral for a gambling debt. My lease. My name.”
It was not a question.
Arthur’s mouth worked. No sound came out.
Julian finally rose. He was taller than Arthur by three inches, and utterly still.
“You forged her signature,” Julian said. It wasn’t a question either. “You drained an account that was not yours. You attempted to secure a loan in her name. In this city, that’s fraud. In my building, that’s theft from family.”
Arthur started to sweat.
“Look, Mr. Cross, I can explain, I was going to put it back, the wedding—”
“There is no wedding,” I said.
Lydia made a small, sharp sound, like she’d been slapped.
“What?” she whispered.
I looked at her — really looked at her. My little sister. Blonde hair exactly like mine but always a little more styled. The wounded expression gone. Underneath, just fear. And envy, old and deep as bone.
“There is no wedding,” I repeated, louder, so the whole bar could hear it. “Because there is no groom. And there is no sister-of-honor. I am not cleaning up after you anymore.”
Lydia’s eyes filled.
“You always had everything,” she burst out, voice cracking. “Mom and Dad, Gran, everyone loved you for being so good, so perfect, carrying all the boxes, never complaining— Arthur said you didn’t even notice he was unhappy, you were so busy being perfect—”
“I noticed,” I said. My throat was raw, but I didn’t look away. “I noticed you wearing my clothes for a year. I noticed money disappearing. I told myself I was being anxious. You counted on that.”
Julian took a single step forward. He didn’t touch Arthur. He didn’t need to.
“Arthur Hale,” he said, and the room went silent again. “You have until tomorrow at noon to return every dollar you took from Nora Ellis’s joint account, plus interest. You will sign a confession of forgery that my lawyer has already prepared. You will vacate the apartment on Ellery Street by Monday, as she said, and you will not contact her again. If you do, I will collect your debt in the way you agreed to when you put her name on it.”
