The fault was never in my trusting.

The fault was in the woman who saw that trust and decided to use it as a tool.

Chapter 7 — The Tone in Nancy’s Voice

That evening, on our daily telephone call, I mentioned it to my daughter Nancy, the way you share good news.

“Clinton has been such a help around here, honey,” I told her, wiping down the kitchen counter with the phone tucked against my shoulder.

“He’s picking up all my banking documents so I don’t have to fuss with them.”