The Photograph of a Newborn in a Yellow Knitted Hat
She pulled the top button of her coat free again, her fingers shaking so hard she missed the loop.
“I just raised her.
I paid for her braces.
I bought her clothes.”
“You bought her clothes with checks Paul sent from our joint account,” I said.
“Did you think I’d never find the bank slips?
Did you think all those years of lies would hold up?”
“Shut up, Rebecca,” Vance said, bringing his hand down hard on his folder.
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