“Olivia,” he said, “what did you do?”
“Nothing.” Olivia’s gaze stayed fixed on the envelope. “Your mother is confused. She’s been confused for weeks.”
Eleanor felt the old brass key pressing into her palm through the paper.
“I am not confused.”
“You forgot your doctor’s appointment.”
“I canceled it.”
“You left the stove on.”
“Once. The burner was cold.”
“You accuse everyone of stealing from you.”
Eleanor looked toward the refrigerator. Beneath the house rules, the corner of the hidden document lifted again.
“No,” she said. “I accuse someone of taking money from my account.”
Michael’s face drained of color.
Olivia’s expression hardened.
“Michael, call your sister.”
“I don’t have a sister.”
“Then call the police.”
Claire flinched.
Eleanor slipped the envelope into the pocket of her cardigan.
“The police can come,” she said. “But first, I’m going to open the lockbox.”
Olivia crossed the room and blocked the doorway.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
For the first time, Eleanor saw fear without its costume. It was there in Olivia’s rigid jaw, in the fingers pressed flat against her thighs, in the way she kept glancing at the envelope instead of at Eleanor’s face.
Michael noticed it too.
“Move,” he said.
Olivia turned toward him. “You’re taking her side?”
“I’m asking you to move.”
Claire came away from the window. Her hands trembled, but she walked to the refrigerator and peeled the taped paper down.
The document beneath it came free with a soft ripping sound.
Olivia made a strangled noise.
Claire read the first line, then looked at Eleanor.
