Claire’s face tightened.
“I don’t forgive you yet.”
Olivia nodded.
“That’s fair.”
She picked up the suitcase.
The deputy opened the door.
At the threshold, Olivia turned once more toward the kitchen. Her eyes rested on the blue chair, then moved to Eleanor.
“I really did hate that chair.”
Eleanor almost smiled.
“You were never required to sit in it.”
“I know.”
Olivia left.
Michael remained.
For several seconds he stood with one hand on the doorframe, unable to cross the room.
“I’ll sign the repayment agreement,” he said.
“You should.”
“I’ll find work.”
“You should.”
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You begin by not asking me to fix it for you.”
He nodded.
His eyes moved over the kitchen. The refrigerator. The pantry. The empty place where the house rules had been taped.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
Eleanor heard the word and felt the years inside it.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. I knew she was lying about the money. I knew she was angry whenever you asked questions. I told myself you were both difficult, and if I stayed quiet, it would pass.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid if I challenged her, she would leave.”
“And now?”
“Now I understand that I was protecting the person who threatened to leave by helping her threaten you.”
