That night, after he left, I called Chloe.
« Aunt Maggie, it’s almost midnight, » she answered, her voice half-asleep.
« I need to talk. About Richard. »
I told her everything. The compliments about my house. The questions about my savings. The way his eyes drifted in restaurants. The little half-second flicker on his face whenever money came up.
There was a long pause on the other end.
« Aunt Maggie, I love you. But you have been burned so badly before. »
« Maybe I am, » I said. « That’s why I need help being sure. »
« What does that mean? »
I took a breath.
« I want to test him. One time. One coffee. And then I’ll know. »
« Test him how? »
« I’m going to tell him I have a daughter I never mentioned. Twenty-five years old. I want you to be her. »
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