With one last worried look, Victor walked away. I sat in the car for several minutes, holding the bag with the glass, feeling as if the world had collapsed on top of me. Tears streamed down my face, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of a cold, crystalline fury I had never felt before, a kind of rage that turns blood to ice and thoughts to precise, sharp-edged calculations.
I wiped my face, took a steadying breath, and picked up my phone. Nora answered on the second ring.
“You were right,” was all I said.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Nora knew. For months, she had tried to warn me about Rachel and Derek’s escalating financial problems, about how they had suddenly started getting closer after the sale of the hotels was announced. I didn’t want to believe it. I had preferred to think she was just a daughter rediscovering her love for her mother.
“How much time do you think we have?” Nora finally asked, her voice all business.
“Not much,” I said. “They’re going to try again.”
“What do you want to do, Helen?”