Suri gave a dubious glance at the house in front of her. If she’d been intimidated by Yael’s sprawling home, that was nothing compared to the Goldfeder mansion. 

She hesitated by the imposing wooden door. This was a mistake, a crazy mistake. She should have done the sensible thing and gone to her lawyer. Wasn’t she paying him big bucks because he knew just what to do with the sort of information she held in her pocket? Instead, she’d chosen to take a trip into the lion’s den. 

The doorbell reverberated as if through a cavernous hall. A moment later, the door opened, and a woman who was clearly the housekeeper ushered her inside. Each step through the marble, art-lined hallway served to drive home the message more sharply: These people were in a totally different league. Attempting to fight them was like a mouse trying to nip at the heels of an elephant. 

But then again, that’s why she was here. Because she wasn’t interested in fighting. 

“Suri, what a pleasant surprise!” Nechi was her usual smooth self, a far cry from the other night. All gracious politeness, though it was clear she did not find anything pleasant about this surprise. Suri had considered calling them in advance, but she thought it likely they’d tell her not to come. 

“I know it’s an inconvenient time for visitors, just a few days before Pesach,” Suri began awkwardly, as she sat down on the embroidered armchair — surprisingly comfortable for something that looked like it was meant to be hanging on a wall. 

Nechi waved her apology away. “I just have a bit of last-minute packing left. We’re flying tomorrow.” 

Flying tomorrow. Of course. How silly of her to imagine people like the Goldfeders made Pesach. Indeed, a minute later, a china platter of very chometzdig biscotti appeared, along with two plates and linen napkins. Must be nice to have a kitchen staff. 

Suri cleared her throat. “I… um… wanted to see how Dini was doing.” 

Nechi’s smile tightened slightly. “She’s doing well, thank G-d. She gave us quite a scare. Thank you again for your help.” 

Suri longed to ask what steps were being taken to help Dini, but she knew the question would be way out of bounds even if they didn’t have a lawsuit hanging between them. She took a biscotti to buy herself time as she thought of how to phrase what she wanted to say next. 

“Nechi!” 

Suri’s heart sank at the sound of his voice. Why, oh why was Mr. Goldfeder always so present? She’d hoped to have this little conversation alone with Nechi. 

Nechi also looked vaguely alarmed, and called out quickly, “What do you want?” 

“My machzor! Where is it?” “Coming, Shmuel.” Nechi was on the verge of getting out of her seat when Mr. Goldfeder walked into the room. And stopped short. “You again?” he cried. “She came to see how Dini’s doing,” Nechi said quickly. “I’ll bet.” His eyes narrowed. “Thought to do some snooping around, Mrs. Taub?” (Excerpted from Family First, Issue 550)