Dad excuses himself to clear our dishes. He leaves the room to go change out of his robe and pajamas. While he’s gone, I try to get a hold of myself.

Okay, so he’s not perfect, I say to myself. But he admitted leaving and he admitted making a mistake. He’s trying to make up for it now.

I believe this. Or I nearly do. I know I want to. But there’s a little voice in my head that says if Mom was telling the truth about him being the one to walk away from us, maybe she’s right about the other things she said about him too.

I don’t want to think that.

But I know I need to find out. Suddenly, I wish I had reached into that manila envelope and read a few of the letters, even if I didn’t believe Mom.

I realize suddenly that if I want to find out the truth, I’m going to have to test him somehow. Otherwise I’ll never know. I think about what to say to him. By the time he returns a few minutes later and settles back down across from me, I have an idea. I hate to lie, but in this case, it’s for the greater good, which I figure makes it okay, just this once.

“Dad, Mom showed up because she needed to talk to me about something really important,” I say.

He’s listening.

“Well, it turns out our financial planner has been embezzling our money,” I lie. “We thought we had millions. But he’s mismanaged a lot of our finances, and he’s also been gambling on the side.”

I know I’m being convincing because Dad’s eyes have widened in apparent horror. I press on.

“Anyhow, so Mom just found out how bad it all is,” I say slowly. “It turns out that we’ve lost everything. And now we’re, like, several million dollars in debt. It’s going to take me a few years of CD sales and concerts and stuff to even get us back to where we started. And that’s only if my album sales are good. It’s pretty terrible,” I add dramatically.

My father’s jaw has dropped, and he’s just staring at me.

“There’s . . . there’s no way to get the money back?” he asks finally. I’m watching him closely, and so far, I could chalk his reaction up to his being a concerned parent. “I mean, can’t the police do something if this guy’s been stealing your money?”

“No.” I shake my head sadly. “Mom signed over all the finances to him. We don’t have any legal recourse. We’re in trouble, Dad.”

“That stupid woman,” my father says under his breath. I raise an eyebrow at him. “I should have figured she’d screw things up.”