thought so too.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
That mattered.
This had not been extortion.
It had been something quieter.
A lie delivered with just enough authority to close a door that was already almost shut.
“What happened after the call?”
“I cried.”
Her answer made me look up.
She wasn’t accusing me.
She was simply remembering.
“My mother came over,” Cassandra continued. “I told her what happened. She said I shouldn’t trust an anonymous phone call.”
“Your mother was right.”
“She usually enjoys hearing that.”
“What did you do?”
“
