It was a small folded square of paper sealed inside a plastic sandwich bag. Micah unfolded it and laid it flat on the table between the coffee mugs. It was a typed agreement, signed at the bottom by my sister and by Victor Ashworth. Upon Rose’s marriage to Victor Ashworth, Lorna Pruitt will receive a consulting fee of $75,000. My mother covered her mouth.

“Where did you get that?” Lorna whispered, her voice shaking. Before Micah could answer, the bell above the diner door jingled. Every head turned. Victor Ashworth stood in the doorway in a gray overcoat, holding a small bouquet of white roses. He looked straight at my sister. “I gave it to him,” he said quietly. “Somebody had to tell your sister the truth.”