“Jennifer, I can’t do this right now.”
He walked into his office and closed the door.
I sat alone at the table, staring at the unexplained payments.
I thought I was prepared for whatever secret he might be keeping.
I wasn’t.
—
The next morning, I wrote Dakota a note.
I explained that I’d discovered payments to a pediatric clinic and that I wanted to understand what was happening.
I included my phone number and asked her to contact me.
That evening, an unfamiliar number sent me a message.
*Friday. Seven p.m. Your house. Make sure Tony is there.*
I showed Tony.
His face went pale.
“Cancel it.”
“No.”
“Jennifer, you don’t understand what this could do.”
“To whom?”
He looked away.
I thought about my childhood.
About the Saturdays I’d spent waiting by the window for a father who never arrived.
Tony knew how much those broken promises had affected me.
