She knew.
I saw it immediately.
Her gaze dropped to the manila folder beneath my arm.
The color left her face.
“Oh,” she said.
Just that.
Oh.
Not What is that?
Not Where did you get it?
She knew.
I looked toward Ethan.
He was now trying to convince Jonathan that one could determine the structural integrity of a paper plate using only utensils available on the dessert table.
“Not here,” I told Mom.
She nodded.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
Dad joined us.
He saw the folder too.
Unlike Mom, he looked confused.
“What’s that?”
Mom answered before I could.
“The college letter.”
Dad frowned.
“What college letter?”
Mom closed her eyes.
And suddenly I understood something important.
Whatever had happened ten years earlier, my parents did not share the same memory of it.
That made me less angry.
It also made the mystery harder.
We left the auditorium a little after four.
