It was competent fraud, the kind that survives a passing glance.

It did not survive me.

And the worst part, the part that had kept me silent and sick with it for six months, was that my husband knew.

Luca was not a bystander to his mother’s theft.

He was covering it up.

I had found the texts.

I had said nothing, and waited, and hoped I would never need it.

Wendy solved that problem for me the night she decided to raise her hands.