Monica rolled her eyes.
“Well, Daniel isn’t here anymore, is he? Half of it will rot anyway.”
I couldn’t speak.
Ben was standing a short distance behind me, still holding his father’s cap.
His fingers tightened around it.
I stepped between him and Monica.
“These trees are not yours. This property is not yours. Don’t come into my yard again.”
“Oh, please. Grief has made you hysterical.”
“Leave the fruit and go.”
Monica stared at me before letting go of one of the bags.
“You’ve always been very protective once you decide something belongs to you.”
I frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“No. You meant something.”
She climbed back over the fence.
Before walking away, she turned and looked at me.
“Funny how your entire life depended on one red light twenty-seven years ago.”
Everything inside me went cold.
“What did you say?”
But Monica was already heading toward her house.
Ben tugged on my sleeve.
“Mom, what did she mean?”
“I don’t know.”
That was a lie.
I knew exactly which red light she meant.
What I couldn’t understand was how Monica knew.
Daniel and I met twenty-seven years earlier because he ran a red light while turning and clipped me while I was crossing the street.
I wasn’t seriously injured.
