“She’s sitting by the lobby fountain with Evelyn,” he said.

“Mom thinks I’m paying for this trip out of my personal account like I always do.

She has no idea what you’re doing over there.”

The admission was quiet, but it landed flat and clear on the kitchen floor.

Ruth didn’t know she was spending my credit line.

She honestly believed her son was paying every dollar out of his own earnings.

“The card is locked, Mark.”