Dad had apparently attempted to borrow another $220,000 using a rental house belonging to my stepmother, Susan.

He had used power-of-attorney documents.

Susan had no idea.

At least, judging from the shouting inside the villa when she learned about it, she didn’t.

Suddenly everyone was arguing.

Olivia was crying.

Susan was screaming at Dad.

David had picked up one of his suitcases.

The children stood silently near the stairs.

And for the first time that day, my anger disappeared.

I was simply tired.

Whatever the adults had done, the children had chosen none of it.

“David,” I said through the intercom.

He looked up.

“Take the kids outside.”

Olivia immediately protested.

“They’re my children!”

“I’m not taking them away from you. I’m telling you to get them away from this argument.”

David looked at Olivia.

Then he did the smartest thing anyone had done all day.

He took the children outside.

Ten minutes later, two sheriff’s vehicles came up the driveway.

Dad’s confidence vanished instantly.

Susan confronted him.

“You used my house too?”

“Susan—”

“Did you?”

He tried to explain.

She didn’t want explanations.

Olivia started telling Dad to insist that I had given him permission.

She still believed the right sentence could fix everything.