“I will not accuse someone of something bigger until I understand why.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“But you still want to protect her?”
“No.”
Margaret met her eyes.
“I want the truth to be clean.”
Claire went quiet.
It was one of the things she had always disliked about Margaret.
Her insistence on exact words.
Her refusal to say someone “stole” something if they had only borrowed it too long.
Her habit of correcting Daniel when he said a coworker had “lied” if the man might simply have been mistaken.
Claire had found it irritating.
Now she understood the discipline in it.
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“We can call her.”
Claire stiffened.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t spoken to her in four years.”
Margaret looked at her.
“What happened?”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“She wanted money.”
Daniel said, “That’s not why you stopped talking to her.”
Claire gave him a look.
“No. It’s part of it.”
Margaret waited.
Claire hated how familiar that patience felt.
“She and I had problems after my father died.”
“Her husband?”
Claire nodded.
“He was good to me. Better than she was.”
Margaret listened.
“When he died, she started calling constantly. Then she wanted access to money he left me.”
Daniel added, “Claire refused.”
“She got ugly.”
Margaret asked, “How ugly?”
Claire looked toward the window.
