“They are just better at hiding it than you are.”

Gloria stepped toward me, her hand gripping her leather purse so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“We made you,” she said.

“You were a nobody from West Texas.”

“My son gave you a life.”

“Your son gave me two beautiful daughters,” I said.

“That is the only thing of value he has ever contributed to my life.”

Graham looked up from the sofa.

“Jocelyn, please,” he said, his voice dropping to a whimper.

“We can work out a deal.”

“I’ll sign whatever you want.”

“Just don’t let them take the house.”

“Don’t let them put it in the papers.”

“My reputation is all I have left.”

“You lost your reputation when you signed those fraudulent loan applications, Graham,” I said.

He froze.

The silence in the room became heavy.

The only sound was the distant hum of the gallery’s air conditioning.

Gloria’s eyes darted to her son, then back to me.

“What are you talking about?” Gloria asked, though her voice lacked its usual strength.

“He didn’t sign anything fraudulent.”

“He did,” I said.