He waited until he could keep his voice level.
“Where is the money I’ve been sending you?
Every month, for years.”
His mother lowered her spoon and looked at him with genuine, guileless confusion.
“What money, Ezra?”
He opened his mouth, and before he could answer, the front door swung open and Gideon breezed in carrying two thin plastic grocery bags, a wide bright smile already fixed on his face.