At Least You’re Poor
Samuel stood near the windows.
“You invited him?” Rebecca asked.
“I did not,” Amelia replied.
Samuel placed a folder on the table. “I’m here because certain information affects Rebecca’s safety.”
Matthew entered last. He wore the same blue shirt he’d worn at the wedding, freshly washed and carefully pressed. His boots were clean. His expression was calm.
Rebecca searched his face for reassurance and got none.