Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope
“You don’t know how I like it.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the bedspread with both palms.
“Your father wanted you to have a fresh start.
He told me that near the end.”
Her fingers found the necklace again.
She held the silver piece between her thumb and forefinger.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means he hated what happened.