Fiona Cartwright sat across from me in the small conference room of her office, her reading glasses balanced at the end of her nose.
She didn’t look at my phone.
She kept her attention on the copies of the three envelopes we had sent.
“You don’t have to answer today,” she said.
“I know.”
“Or tomorrow.”
“I know that too.”
The phone stopped ringing.
For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air-conditioning.
Fiona gathered the documents into three neat piles.
“The first envelope was from the bank,” she said.
“It confirms that your pledge of securities against Logan’s business credit line has been withdrawn.
The bank is giving him thirty days to replace the collateral or refinance the balance.”
I nodded.
“The second was the formal demand for repayment of the family loan.”
“The one for the house renovations.”
