“This conversation is over. Go get ready.”
Regina went back to the bedroom and started counting backward from twenty, a trick she’d picked up from a self-help book and used whenever she wanted to keep from saying exactly what she thought. At three o’clock, Eleanor dramatically set a heavy leather handbag on the dining room table and pulled out a thick envelope stuffed with fresh hundred-dollar bills. Regina, who was arranging éclairs on a silver tray, slowed her hands without meaning to.
“Admiring it, dear?” Eleanor said, fanning the bills out like a casino dealer. “There’s exactly $18,000 here. Some women from the charity board collected it for a children’s shelter. They trusted me to handle it. Do you know why?”
“Please, enlighten me.”
“Because my reputation is spotless, and I come from a world where other people’s money doesn’t make anyone’s eyes light up.” She paused. “I think I’ll put it in my safe. And let me be very clear—you are not to go into my bedroom. I hope you understand why I’m being cautious.”
“I understand perfectly,” Regina said in a flat voice.
“Good. Sometimes you do catch on.”
Eleanor packed the money away and swept out of the room. Agnes, who had watched the whole thing from the doorway, shook her head.
“Regina, if I were you, I’d put something stronger than chamomile in that tea.”
“Don’t tempt me, Agnes. I’m hanging on by a thread.”
“I’m not tempting you. I’m sympathizing. That’s in shorter supply around here than caviar.”
They both let out a short laugh, the kind people laugh when they’re trying not to say more than they should.
At four o’clock, Regina went upstairs to change into something that wouldn’t offend the lady of the house. She reached for the closet shelf, then stopped. One of Mike’s shirt cuffs was bent out of place. She had ironed that stack herself that morning, and she knew exactly how it had looked.
She knelt down and carefully lifted the shirts. There, on the bottom shelf, tucked beneath the neat pile of cotton, was the same envelope stuffed with cash.
For a few long seconds, everything went still. Then the logic clicked into place so cleanly it made her skin go cold.
The little display with the money downstairs had been stage-setting. Eleanor wanted Regina thinking about the safe while the real trap sat right here, under her husband’s shirts. The plan was simple and ugly. The “missing” money would be discovered in front of an important guest, and Regina’s life in that house would be over. Anything she said after that would sound like the excuse of a guilty woman.
“You really are something, Eleanor,” Regina whispered into the empty room, surprised by how calm she sounded.
Her first instinct was to grab the envelope and march downstairs and throw it in her mother-in-law’s face. But she knew Eleanor too well by now. One dramatic gasp, one wounded speech about ingratitude, and Mike would once again get pulled into the middle and freeze. Anger would only hand Eleanor control.
So Regina took a slow breath and felt fear harden into something steadier.
She looked at the envelope and understood that she couldn’t just toss it out. It had to go back into circulation in a way Eleanor wouldn’t see coming. Regina straightened the shirts, fixed the cuff, and slid the envelope into the deep pocket of her sturdy apron. The cash pressed against her hip, but somehow it didn’t feel heavy at all.
She changed into a light blouse and clean slacks, put the apron back on, and checked herself in the mirror. She looked like the same calm daughter-in-law who poured tea, kept the peace, and absorbed every insult. Only now she had a plan.
“All right, Eleanor,” she murmured to her reflection, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Let’s see who’s actually running the board here.”
