“Just cash it, Claire, and we can put this whole nightmare behind us.”

The cashier’s check sat on the laminate counter between the salt shaker and the metal bread box.

Bennett’s tower toppled onto the linoleum with a soft wooden clatter.

“Aunt Lauren?” Bennett asked from the floor.

“Are you staying to have lunch with us?”

“Not for long, sweetie,” she said, leaning down to touch his back.

“Your mom and I just have to finish up our paperwork.”

I picked up the check to move it away from a little drop of soup on the edge of the counter.