Chapter 7: Two Million

Honoria Hallworth came to Queens on Sunday morning in a town car the length of the street.

Hettie's neighbors were out on their stoops in bathrobes and church clothes.

Nobody on that block had ever seen a woman in a cream coat step out of a car.

I was on the front steps, drinking coffee in an old T-shirt of Hettie's.

Honoria stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at me.

"Roxie."

"Honoria."

"You look well. Tired, but well."

"What do you want?"

"To make this simple." She held out a long white envelope. "May I come up?"

"You can say it from there."

She sighed and said it from there.

"Two million dollars. A clean check, drawn on my personal account."

"For what?"

"For a signature on a small agreement."

"You'll move to the West Coast. You'll never use my son's name."

"And you'll never speak about your marriage to anyone."

"That's a nondisclosure agreement."

"It's a settlement, dear. It's generous."

The neighbors had gone quiet.

Across the street, a woman in a robe lifted her phone, very slowly, and aimed it at us.

Honoria didn't notice, or didn't care.

"Take it, Roxie. Be sensible. Corbin will recover, and you will be comfortable for the rest of your life."

"Comfortable," I said.

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