The envelope is open on the table. The cash is out.
Mom shoves the bundles back in, fast. Too fast, and kicks the whole thing back under the cushion as the doorbell rings again.
I can't breathe.
Mom looks at me. "Don't say anything." The doorbell rings a third time. Longer this time.
Mom stands up too fast, smooths her shirt. She mouths couch to me and points.
I sit on the cushion, right where the envelope is. I can feel the hard edge of the cash brick under my thigh.
Mom opens the door just two inches.
Lillian.
"Hi! Sorry, I forgot my —" She stops. She's smiling that fake tiny smile, but her eyes go straight past Mom, to me. To the coffee table. To how I'm sitting.
"Your charger?" Mom says quickly. Too quickly.
"Yeah," Lillian says. She doesn't move. "My charger. I think I left it by the stove."
She is not going to look by the stove. She's looking at Mom's hands. Mom's hands are empty but shaking.
