“Fine,” she said. “Ten thousand.”
My skin prickled.
“Lila, what is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. I just want something that belonged to Mother.”
“You inherited her entire house.”
“I want the shawl too.”
“No.”
The answer came instinctively.
She had mocked it.
She had mocked me.
Now she wanted to purchase it for more money than I earned in several months.
That meant she knew something.
“Twenty-five thousand,” she said.
I stood up.
“What did you find out?”
“Clara, don’t be ridiculous.”
“What did you find out?”
She became quiet.
Then she hung up.
Less than an hour later, someone knocked on my door.
It was not Lila.
It was the family lawyer.
Mr. Bennett stood on my porch holding a leather briefcase.
“I apologize for arriving without an appointment,” he said. “May I come inside?”
I let him in.
