Ruth stared at her untouched cup.
Nora had imagined this moment all morning. In her imagination, exposing the truth had felt clean, like opening a window.
Instead, her sister looked smaller than ever.
“Drink something,” Nora said.
“I can’t.”
“Then hold it.”
She eased the cup between Ruth’s hands.
Clara watched the exchange with a hard, bewildered expression.
“You sent her your retirement?”
“A temporary loan. With a written agreement.”
“For what?”
“For the apartment she chose. For a front door nobody can threaten to lock her out of.”
Clara’s gaze snapped toward the hallway.
Nora noticed that, too.
Ruth had arrived at her house the previous afternoon carrying a grocery bag full of papers. She had asked whether Nora still kept Daniel’s old magnifying glass.
Nora had found her sister at the kitchen table, trying to read a bank statement through tears.
The money from the bungalow had entered Ruth’s account on a Tuesday. On Thursday, almost all of it had gone to the company handling Julian and Clara’s Bellevue purchase.
Julian had helped Ruth set up her online banking. He knew her password. He had persuaded her to leave the notifications going to an email account he managed.
And among the papers in the grocery bag was a copy of a letter declaring the money an unconditional gift.
Ruth had never seen it before.
“You should have come to me,” Clara said.
Ruth looked up.
“I did.”
“No. You asked when it would be sorted out.”
“I asked when I would get my money back.”
Clara rubbed the wrist Nora had slapped.
“You were upset. I told you Julian was handling it.”
“You told me good mothers don’t keep accounts against their children.”
Nora’s fingers tightened around her own cup.
Julian returned, carrying his phone as though it had become something sharp.
