“I understand precisely what men like Arthur think they own,” I said.

“They think they own the people around them.

Their wives, their sons, the truth itself.

And they are always, always certain that no one will ever have the nerve, or the means, to prove otherwise.” I looked at her bruised, gentle face.

“I have both, Patricia.

For the first time in thirty-two years, someone in this family has both.

So please — let me.”

Chapter 6 — No Bank