I felt sick.
“Craig did this. My brother.”
“Your brother owes a very bad man a hundred and eighty thousand dollars,” Lenora said, and for the first time, her voice thinned. “The gym. He told me in August, crying in my kitchen. I said I’d help him find a loan. He said a loan would take too long.”
“You should have told me!”
“Yes.”
She didn’t flinch.
“I should have. I’m sorry, Carrie. I wanted to be certain. And I wanted to be certain of him.” She looked at the notebook, and for a moment, I saw how old she was. “He’s my son. I wanted to see if he’d put the phone down on his own.”
“And he didn’t.”
“He did not.”
“Mom, you let him!”
“I stayed on the line, honey.” She closed the notebook gently. “That’s the job. You never hang up on a call until help arrives.”
