The Letter in My Purse
Chapter 18 — Dad, Who Is She?
“Mom,” Leo whispered.
I knew that tone.
I had heard it building in him for four days.
“Don’t, Leo,” I whispered back.
“I’m just going to ask him a question,” he said.
And before I could close my hand around his arm to stop him, my son stood up from the table.
He walked straight across the parquet floor, a twelve-year-old boy in a slightly-too-small suit moving through a crowd of senior partners and major investors, and he did not hurry and he did not falter, and he came to a stop directly in front of his father and the woman in champagne silk.
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