“Don’t worry,” I told him.

He paused.

“Do you still have something to prove, Delia?” I looked at the brown folder on my bedside table — the one my attorney had left the week before, thick with things I had not yet fully understood.

“More than you can imagine,” I said.

And for the first time in the whole call, Damon stopped laughing.

Chapter 5 — The Fine Print

The invitation came through a minute later.