“Sebastian does what the computer tells him to do,” Rebecca said. She leaned closer, her eyes steady. “We have to be smart and strategic, Mary, because they think you are too weak to fight.”
“I need to go to the bank,” I said.
“Tomorrow morning,” Rebecca said. “Go when they open. Do not say a word to Robert tonight. Let him think you are still his sweet, quiet mother.”
“Do you remember signing it?” Rebecca asked.
“I remember the office,” I said. “It was raining. Arthur had been gone only three weeks. Robert told me it was just a backup plan, in case I ever broke my hip or could not get to the grocery store. He said it was standard procedure for a widow.”
“And you trusted him,” Rebecca said.
“He is my son,” I said. “Who else was I supposed to trust?”
Rebecca did not answer. She picked up her spectacles and put them back on, adjusting the wire frames behind her ears. “Go to the bank tomorrow, Mary. Do not let Sebastian put you off. Tell him you want to see the ledger.”
