”
I did not answer her
“He does not have a business partner named Brielle.”
I did not answer her.
I stood there, staring at the receipt under the dim kitchen light, wondering how long he had been preparing to leave.
Margot, my fifteen-year-old daughter, came down the stairs holding a sheet of paper. She was twisting her silver ring round and round her thumb, a habit she had when she was trying to keep her voice level.
I was sitting on the sofa, resting my lower back, watching the morning light catch the dust motes in the air.
She did not say good morning. She walked straight to me and held out the printed page, the ink still smelling slightly warm from our old desktop printer.
“Look at this, Mom,” she said.
The printout showed a bright, blue rooftop pool, the water glittering under a clear sky. Evan was sitting on the edge of a lounge chair, wearing new sunglasses, holding a drink with a slice of lime. Next to him was a young woman in a bright orange top, her hand resting on his knee.
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Author
Jordan M. Hayes
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