“You said you had eaten early.”
I looked away from the manager.
“Sometimes I had.”
“Crackers don’t count as dinner.”
I had never told her about the crackers.
Apparently children learn to hear the spaces inside their mother’s lies.
Emily wanted to come to the bank immediately.
I told her not to leave work.
She ignored me and said she was already grabbing her coat.
Daniel called before she arrived.
Emily had told him.
His first question was not about Richard.
“Did you fill the prescription?”
“Not yet.”
“Then take out what you need and go to the pharmacy.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
Only after that did he ask about the letter.
When I read part of it aloud, he went silent.
Finally he said, “Dad knew you wouldn’t use it if you thought it was his.”
“Yes.”
“So he lied because he thought he knew what was best for you.”
I stared through the glass wall of the manager’s office at people moving through the lobby.
“That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
Daniel sighed.
Neither of us needed to say more.
The manager returned after giving me a few minutes alone.
She explained my options.
I could withdraw the entire amount, transfer part of it, leave it where it was, or open another account and move the balance.
I asked for enough to cover the prescription, my follow-up appointments, groceries, and several weeks without having to count every dollar before I went to sleep.
Then I asked her to transfer the rest into a new savings account under my sole control and close the old account after the transfer cleared.
She looked surprised.
“You want to close the account receiving the monthly deposits?”
“Yes.”
“You understand that future transfers may be rejected once it closes?”
“I understand.”
For the first time that morning, my voice did not shake.
The manager nodded and began preparing the paperwork.
When Emily arrived, she crossed the lobby so quickly that two people turned to look at her.
She hugged me before she even sat down.
Then she saw the letter.
Her face changed as she read it.
“This is supposed to make it okay?” she asked.
“No.”
“Are you going to call him?”
I considered lying.
Instead I said, “Yes.”
We called Richard from the bank parking lot.
I put the phone on speaker and rested it between us on the front seat of Emily’s car.
Richard answered with the same calm voice I remembered from the courthouse.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
A beat of silence.
“Margaret.”
“I went to the bank.”
