She handed him the wallet instead.
“You should probably check this first.”
Nathaniel looked down.
“The wallet.”
“There was nine hundred dollars inside.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You counted it?”
“Twice.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“And all nine hundred dollars are still there?”
Ruby nodded.
Nathaniel opened the wallet and checked the contents.
Then he closed it.
“What’s your name?”
“Ruby Bennett.”
The smile disappeared.
Not slowly.
Instantly.
Ruby noticed.
She noticed because grown-ups often seemed to forget that children noticed things.
“You know my name?” she asked.
Nathaniel did not answer immediately.
Behind him, his assistant, a woman carrying a tablet, had emerged from the elevator.
“Nathaniel?”
He looked toward her.
“Margaret, cancel my eleven o’clock.”
Margaret blinked.
“It’s the pension committee.”
“Move it.”
“And your lunch with—”
“Move that too.”
Margaret studied Ruby.
Nathaniel handed her the eviction notice.
The moment she read the address printed near the bottom, her expression changed.
