glanced toward the hallway my children had abandoned.
“I hoped that when you needed them most,” he said, “they would stay.”
He hesitated.
“They didn’t.” Malcolm partly withdrew a VOSS ELDER LAW GROUP, PLLC letter from Bellevue, Washington. My name appeared above a sentence highlighted yellow. Before I read it, he met my gaze.
“Adrienne,” he said. “The parking fee wasn’t the real reason they left.” He handed me the document.
Without the reading glasses in my missing purse, I held it far away and squinted. The two-day-old letter was