Chapter 7: Terms

I went to lunch alone, because Skylar had asked me not to bring anyone.

The Oakridge restaurant was full.

Forty people sat under a glass ceiling with white tablecloths and low voices.

Judith and Skylar had a table in the center of the room.

Preston wasn't there.

Judith pushed a leather folder across the tablecloth before I had finished rolling up to the table.

"Read it," she said. "Then sign it, and we can all go home."

I opened the folder.

The first page was a check for five hundred thousand dollars, made out to me.

The second page was a sworn statement.

I, Lydia Conwell Aldous, state that I was driving on the night of the crash on Route 9, and that I am not fit to manage my affairs.

The third page was a non-disclosure agreement, three paragraphs long.

"You want me to sign that I killed a man," I said.

"We want you to be sensible," Judith said.

"And that I can't think."

"You can't, dear. That's rather the point."

Skylar leaned toward me and laid her hand on the cloth between us.

"Nobody wants to hurt you, Lydia. If you sign, Preston will take care of you, and we'll all say it was a hard year."

"You'll all say it."

"Yes."

"After he marries you on Friday."

Skylar's eyes did not leave mine.

"I'm sorry it happened this way," she said. "I truly am."

I turned the check face down.

"You've given me a statement that says I killed a man and a check for five hundred thousand dollars to keep quiet about it," I said.

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