His eyes darted to Renee, then over to me.

“Which trust account?” Daniel asked.

“The bank issued a cashier’s check yesterday,” I said, settling my napkin in my lap.

“The vendor was happy.”

Daniel cleared his throat and put his fork down with a sharp click on the porcelain.

He glanced at the hallway leading to the master suite, as though making sure the doors were closed.

“We need to talk about the fall schedule, Mom,” Daniel said.

He leaned over the table, dropping his voice into the smooth, flat tone he used on corporate real estate calls.