For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke

“You had to keep digging until he locked the door.”

I stopped the Buick at the red light on Main Street.

“He used our money, Eleanor,” I said.

“He used Laura’s memory to fund a fake life.”

“He gave us every other weekend with the only piece of Laura we have left,” she said.

“And you traded it away to play detective.”

The light turned green.

I pressed the gas pedal.