“And Mom wasn’t?”
“That is enough,” Elise said.
Jonah turned on her. “No, it actually isn’t. Everybody keeps saying he was dying like it turns every bad decision into sacred wisdom.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re looking at these receipts like they’re love letters.”
“I’m looking at them because they’re in front of me.”
He dropped the paper back onto the table. “He had a phone. He knew our address. He could have said, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m not actually a complete bastard.’”
“He thought your mother would find him.”
“I would have,” I said.
All three of them looked at me.
The words had come before I could stop them.
I touched the edge of the table. “If he had sent me one note that said he was sick, I would have found him.”
Jonah’s anger altered. It did not disappear; it bent toward me. “Even during chemo?”
