Chapter 12: The Offer

Lydia had chosen the corner table of the café across the street, with a view of the Fund's front doors.

She stood when I came in and kissed the air beside my cheek.

"Claire. You look wonderful. Chicago agrees with you."

"Lydia."

"Sit, please. I ordered you a decaf and a lemon scone."

She had remembered I like lemon.

It was a small, careful thing, and I took it as a warning.

On the empty chair beside her sat a white gift bag with tissue paper sticking out of the top.

"A little blanket," she said. "Anne's mother made it for Poppy, and I thought the baby should have it."

I did not touch the bag.

I took my phone out, set it on the table between us and tapped the red button.

"Do you mind if I record? I'm terrible with details."

Lydia's smile didn't move.

"Of course not. I have nothing to hide."

"Good."

"I'll be honest with you, because I respect you. I was unfair to you, Claire, and Anne would have been ashamed of me."

"That's generous."

"I'd like to make it right."

She opened her handbag and slid an envelope across the tablecloth.

I opened it.

It was a cashier's check for two hundred thousand dollars.

The paper clipped behind it was two pages long, and I read it while she watched me.

I would never contact Poppy.

I would never claim any right to her, through the courts or otherwise.

I would never discuss the family, the prenup, or any of the household's arrangements with anyone.

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