her divorce. She had accumulated debts, fallen behind on several payments, and hidden the situation from the family.
She had told Eliam that she was afraid I would judge her.
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense. I’m her sister.”
“I know.”
“I would have helped her.”
“I know.”
“Then why did she come to you?”
Eliam stared at the table.
“Because she asked me not to tell you.”
I felt anger building again.
“And you agreed?”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of his answer hurt more than an elaborate excuse
