“This is ridiculous,” she said.

“Give us the keys, Dan.”

“I don’t have them,” Dan said.

He held up his hands, showing the empty palms, though he still kept my phone in his left hand.

“And you aren’t going anywhere until we talk about this.”

He pointed to the screen.

“This is forty thousand dollars, Mom.”

“It was supposed to be the trust fund for the kids’ college.”

“Why did it go into an account under your maiden name?”

Juliette did not look at the phone.

She looked at the empty peg board again, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“It’s my money,” she said.

“I earned it.”

“You didn’t earn it,” Dan said, his voice cracking.

“Dad left that money specifically for the grandchildren.”

“You were just the trustee.”

Sarah walked back into the hallway, her face pale.

“Mom, is that where the money for the house in Florida came from?” Sarah asked.

Juliette did not answer her.

She began to search the small entryway table, lifting the ceramic bowl where we kept spare change and old mail.

She threw a stack of local newspapers onto the floor.