Then it was gone, replaced by sparkle. “Come sit,” she chirped. “Wait till you hear what I’m doing next. Big things.”
We sat at the table. My mother served food. My father asked Cass about her “real estate luck” like it was charming instead of suspicious. Cass launched into her story, all confidence and vague details.
“I just knew it was my time,” she said, twirling her fork like a wand. “You know? Like the universe was finally aligning. Opportunities just started showing up.”
My mother clapped softly, like Cass was a child who’d recited a poem. “I’m so proud of you.”
Cass winked at me across the table. “It’s all about mindset, El.”
I felt my stomach twist. I thought about my own mindset: careful, responsible, tired.
I waited until everyone had taken a few bites, until the conversation had settled into that comfortable family rhythm that usually lulled me into compliance.
Then I reached into my bag.
The folder made a soft thud on the table when I set it down.
Cass’s smile faltered. My mother’s eyebrows lifted.
“What’s that?” my mother asked lightly, like it might be a recipe.
I slid the delinquency notice across the table toward Cass.