Ask her where the money went.
The room went silent.
I turned toward Jessica.
“What first loan?”
She stared at the message, her breathing shallow.
“I don’t know.”
The attorney took the phone again, but Jessica caught his wrist.
“No,” she said.
“I need to answer.”
“Jessica, think carefully.”
She shook her head.
“I’ve been thinking carefully for months.
That’s how I got here.”
She stepped outside, walking several paces into the yard.
I followed, but stopped near the porch.
She pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
No one spoke loudly enough for me to hear the other voice.
Jessica’s face changed as she listened.
The panic in it gave way to disbelief, then sorrow.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
A pause.
“You told me it was closed.”
Another pause.
“No.
No, Caleb, you said the account was settled.”
She turned and looked at me through the workshop doorway.
