I couldn’t.

For five years, I had believed I understood the last thing Gregory had left me.

Now I couldn’t even trust the number.

PART 3 — What My Children Had Not Told Me

Patricia met me at the school cafeteria later that day with two cups of coffee and a sandwich cut in half.

I had gone to work after the bank because I could not afford to treat a mysterious envelope as an excuse to miss a shift.

“What did they tell you?” she asked.