“I said she was lonely.”
The words struck Eleanor harder than the accusations had. Michael looked at her, and shame passed across his face so quickly that she nearly missed it.
He had known something was wrong.
He had chosen not to look closely.
That was its own kind of betrayal.
Eleanor took the letter from Miriam and unfolded it.
“I met with my attorney two months ago,” she said. “I also met with a forensic accountant. The transfers were traced. So were the credit-card purchases.”
Michael looked down at the statements.
There were charges for furniture, hotel rooms, restaurant meals, and a deposit on a condominium across town.
Olivia had used Eleanor’s card to pay the first installment.
The condominium address was printed on the last page.
“You were buying another house,” Michael said.
“For us.”
“With her money.”
“With money we were owed.”
Eleanor folded her hands over the table.
“Your father left when you were eleven. I remember you standing in the hallway with one shoe on, asking whether he would come back before dinner. I told you he might. I was wrong.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“I worked two jobs. I sold the silver set my mother gave me. I paid this mortgage because I wanted you to have somewhere no one could take from you.”
“I know.”
“I did not do those things so you could take this house from me.”
“I know.”
His voice collapsed on the last word.
Olivia moved toward the door.
Eleanor saw the movement and spoke without raising her voice.
“If you leave, the police will find you at the condominium.”
Olivia stopped.
“You had no right to investigate me.”
“I had every right to protect myself.”
