Page 47 of The Perfect Divorce

“Let’s hear them,” I say.

“The recent news regarding the former sheriff having been intimate with Kelly Summers was extremely disappointing, to say the least, and it was somethingyouas Adam’s lawyer should have uncovered.”

“It was hidden from the prosecution and the?—”

She lifts her frail hand. “I don’t want to hear excuses, Sarah. It’s far too late for that.”

If Eleanor knew the truth—that I had uncovered the affair between Stevens and Summers in the midst of the trial and chose to keep it hidden—I’m sure she’d drop dead from pure shock and utter rage. But I can’t count on that. Like I said, she’s driven by spite and her resentment of me.

“Okay,” I say. “Why else are you here?”

“I want to know what you’re doing for my son’s case.”

I don’t owe her an explanation, but I’ll give her one if it’ll help shorten this visit. “I’ve already filed an appeal with the courts because of the Prince William County Sheriff’s Office’s concealment of exculpatory evidence. The process was expedited due to internal corruption and mishandling of the investigation as well as some connections I have, so we should hear back soon. With the media attention, I assume it’ll be in our favor,” I say matter-of-factly. “And if it has to go back to trial, the Morgan Foundation will be handling the case.”

“So, the world will finally know my Adam was innocent?” Her eyes develop a sheen to them.

“An appeal alone doesn’t prove his innocence. It’s just a small step in the legal process, which can take years. But we’re lucky they’re even reviewing it this quickly.”

“Lucky?” she scoffs. “My son is dead, or have you forgotten?”

“No, Eleanor, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Mom,” Summer calls from the other end of the house. Her feet slap against the hardwood floor, growing louder. She calls for me again as she rounds the corner dressed in a pair of leggings and a plain long-sleeve top, and stops just a foot or so in front of me.

Eleanor squints her wrinkly lids, eyeing her suspiciously. There’s not a shred of kindness on her face, and I know exactly what she’s thinking.

“I finished my homework just in time,” Summer says.

“Just in time for what?”

My gaze keeps bouncing between my sweet daughter and the wicked old woman shooting daggers at her, merely because of her existence. Summer’s a reminder of what I never gave Eleanor, and something she will never ever have. A grandchild.

“I told you last week that Courtney’s mom was going to take us to the movies today for her birthday.” Her voice is high-pitched, showcasing her frustration.

I furrow my brow. “I don’t remember you telling me that.”

“I did!” she groans.

“Is Courtney’s mother going to watch the movie with you two?”

“Yes, Mom.” She rolls her eyes.

“What did I tell you about rolling your eyes, Summer?” I softly scold.

“Sorry,” she says, looking down at her feet.

A car horn honks twice in quick succession.

“She’s here.” Summer lifts her head and smiles. “Can I go?”

I move my mouth side to side, mulling it over. Did she really tell me? Maybe she did. I’ve had so much on my mind lately, I can barely keep it all straight. I can’t tell her no if I already told her yes, and she needs as normal of a life as I can possibly give her. Plus, the last thing I need right now is to have a spat with my daughter in front of Eleanor. She already has enough to say as it is, and I don’t need her judging me as a mother.

“Yeah, you can go.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Summer squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a big hug. Pulling away, she races toward the front door to put on her shoes.

“Take forty dollars out of my purse for your ticket and concessions for you and Courtney,” I call out.

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