“Then what is it?!”
“It’s a shelter.”
I stared at him. “A what?”
“The shelter not far from Mabel’s café. I’ve been bringing food and some money.”
“For whom?!”
My husband couldn’t say it. He opened his mouth twice, but nothing came out.
“Then what is it?!”
“For a young woman,” Owen said finally. “She has a toddler. Her name is Lily.”
The room became very quiet. I could hear the refrigerator humming and my own pulse in my ears. Mabel must have seen them together, I thought, more than once, enough times to write that note.
“You’ve been taking money from our daughter’s college fund,” I said slowly, “to give to another woman and her child?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“Then what is it like?!” My voice rose. “Because from here, it sounds exactly like that!”
“Claire, please!”
“It isn’t like that.”
I stepped back from the counter.
“No! You lied to my face for months. You watched me worry, and you let me. You let me think it was a bank error.”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what? The late nights you can’t explain?!”
He flinched.
“On second thought, Harper and I aren’t going anywhere! Pack a bag,” I said.
