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

Eleanor stood by the stove.

A pot of potatoes sat on the cold burner, completely untouched.

She didn’t look at me when I hung my coat on the wooden peg.

“Mark called me,” Eleanor said.

I stopped with my hand still resting on the coat peg.

“Now let’s take a breath,” Eleanor said.

“You’re going to listen to me.”

“What did he tell you?” I asked.