He nodded.
“That’s fair.”
He walked away.
I watched him cross the yard.
There was a time when I would have wanted some grand moment.
An apology.
A punishment.
A declaration.
Instead, all I felt was tired.
And strangely relieved.
Marcy came downstairs twenty minutes later.
“Who was here?”
I put the envelope on the table.
“Dustin.”
She stopped.
Ellen looked at me sharply.
“He didn’t ask to see her.”
Marcy stared at the envelope.
“What’s that?”
“Your folder.”
She approached slowly.
“He had it?”
“Frank did.”
Marcy opened it.
The deposit slips were still inside.
So were her handwritten notes.
She touched the pages almost carefully.
“I spent so much time on this.”
“I know.”
She closed the folder.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
“What?”
“I don’t need it anymore.”
She slid it across the table toward me.
“What should I do with it?”
“Give it to Ray’s lawyer if she needs it.”
