Evelyn slid a small envelope of cash across the table. “It isn’t much,” she admitted. “But it’ll cover gas and a motel or two. I never stopped setting a little aside—just in case. I’d like it to be used for him. For David. Take the envelope and return it after you have the answers.”
Margaret tucked the money reluctantly into her bag. On the drive home, the weight of the task pressed down on her. She hadn’t expected responsibility, only a broken-down Benz she already half-regretted buying. Yet now she was carrying decades of unanswered questions in her passenger seat.