I turned toward her.

“She asked about the letter I signed,” Mom continued. “And about those envelopes.”

I waited.

Mom looked at her hands.

“She said Nicole claimed they were brown. But I told her I’d seen white ones.”

“Mom…”

“I realized I never actually saw Nicole give you any money.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I signed the letter because Nicole asked me to.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

Then Mom whispered,

“Can you help me fix it?”

I looked at her.

“You have to correct your own statement, Mom.”

The following morning, I drove her to the appropriate office.

She formally withdrew her earlier account.

It was the first time I could remember my mother taking responsibility for a decision that might upset Nicole.

But by then, the damage had already been done.

The hearing took place in a plain conference-style room on the eleventh floor.