I looked toward the rain-streaked window.
“You loved me.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew.”
“Yes.”
“Did he hate you?”
Daniel’s gaze softened.
“No. That was the strange part. He hated himself more.”
For a long moment, the only sound was the ticking clock above the kitchen doorway.
Then Daniel said, “There is more.”
He removed a small silver key from his pocket.
“Your husband rented a safe-deposit box under both our names. He told me not to open it until you came here.”
I stared at the key.
“What is inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we go now.”
Daniel rose immediately, but I remained seated.
“Not tonight.”
He stopped.
“I’ve just learned that my son forged my name, took money meant for my future, and put me out of my own home. I don’t want to walk into a bank looking like a frightened old woman who has been rescued.”
“You don’t look rescued.”
“I feel it.”
Daniel came around the table and placed his hand beside mine, not touching me.
“Then we will wait until you feel ready. But you are not going back to Bradley’s house.”
“I have my clothes there.”
“We’ll get them tomorrow.”
“I have photographs. Charles’s papers.”
“We’ll get those too.”
“And my grandchildren.”
Something moved across his face.
