She opened her eyes.
They were wet, and furious, and very clear.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” Emily asked Pam.
It was only a question.
Pam’s mouth trembled.
“Frank Rourke’s foundation has a seat on the board that signs off on our pensions,” she said.
“I was three years from retirement. I told myself it was paperwork. I told myself you’d be better off with the debt gone.”
“I went home and wrote down everything in this notebook, with the times, and I put it in my sock drawer.”
“I have looked at your face on the Wednesday line every week since December, and I have never once looked you in the eye.”
She laid the notebook on the table.
Emily reached across and put her hand over Pam’s.
Ray, at the end of the table, turned his laptop around.
“The petition went up on the court portal at five p.m. Exhibit A is the agreement. Six pages.”
