“I was trying to protect my family.”
“You were trying to take my home.”
“You don’t understand what it is like to watch your husband fail.”
I said nothing.
She laughed once, without humor.
“Michael lost his job eight months ago.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
He had told me his consulting work was slow. He had asked to borrow money twice. I had given it to him both times and never asked for it back.
“He said he was working.”
“He was looking. There is a difference.”
“Then he could have asked me.”
“He did ask you. You gave him five hundred dollars and told him to be patient.”
“I didn’t know he needed more.”
“He needed a house.”
“He needed honesty.”
Her expression crumpled for half a second before the hardness returned.
“My mother offered to help. She said she would buy this place, let us live here, and put the property in a trust for the children.”
“Why was it being sold to your mother?”
“Because you would never agree.”
“That is not an answer.”
“She thought you would refuse because you have never trusted me.”
“I stopped trusting you when you started making decisions about my life without me.”
“You never accepted me.”
“I accepted you into my family.”
“You tolerated me because Michael chose me.”
“That was enough.”
The sirens approached from the road.
Lauren’s hand trembled against the folder.
“Michael didn’t forge the deed,” she said.
“I know.”
