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

“Leave the boy alone,” she said.

“If you start auditing him, he’ll feel like we don’t trust him.”

I closed the blue binder.

The cardboard cover slapped against the table.

“I trust him,” I said.

“But the numbers should make sense.”

Eleanor picked up her coffee and walked out to the front register.

I stayed in the back room alone.