But I couldn’t honestly say I knew where the money had gone.

And I couldn’t dismiss the possibility simply because the person involved was my child.

“I think we should examine the records before either of us makes another claim.”

Roman looked wounded.

I felt the familiar maternal instinct to comfort him.

He was my youngest.

I remembered him at eight, crying because he’d broken a neighbor’s window with a baseball.

At sixteen, furious when he failed his driving test.