Four Minute Phone Call Exposed My Husband and My Best Friend
“Mother?” I said, stepping into the room.
Evelyn looked up, her fingers twisting the fringe of her shawl.
“A man came to the door, Laura,” she said, her voice thinner than usual. “A very polite young man in a dark suit.”
“Who was he?” I asked, kneeling beside her chair.
“He said he was representing Richard’s interests,” Evelyn said, her eyes fixed on the cold tea. “He asked if I had noticed any lapses in your memory lately.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you tell him?” I asked.
“I told him to leave my property,” Evelyn said, her chin trembling slightly. “But he stood on the porch and asked if you had been taking your medication regularly since the last miscarriage.”
“He had no right to ask you that,” I said.
“He had a clipboard, Laura,” Evelyn whispered. “He had dates written down. The dates of your hospital stays.”
I took her hand, which felt as fragile as dry leaves.
“Richard is trying to make me look unstable so he can take the trust,” I said.
