Richard seized on that. “Exactly. She let us believe—”
“That you were tenants?” David asked. “The lease says that clearly.”
“That a company owned it.”
“A company does.”
“You know what I mean.”
David held his gaze. “She wanted you to stay in your home.”
I closed my eyes.
That had been true when I signed the purchase documents. It was still true in a complicated, painful way. I had not bought the house to make them kneel before me.
The bank had already taken it. A sale to someone else would have forced them out, and my mother could not bear the thought of explaining it to her friends.
My father had been recovering from a health scare then. He never told me how frightened he was, but I saw him hesitate at the front steps one afternoon, catching his breath before he could unlock the door.
So I bought the place.
I told myself that keeping their secret might give us room to become a different family.
In the entryway, Richard looked toward the staircase.
“Nicole arranged all of this?” he asked.
David did not soften his answer. “Nicole arranged for you to remain here. Tonight, she asked me to enforce the agreement you signed.”
Terrence made a small sound of disbelief. “So a child spills juice, and she sends police?”
“No,” one deputy said.
Everyone turned.
The deputy stood just outside the threshold, snow melting on his coat. “The call concerned a four-year-old being put outside in freezing weather. We’re here to make a record of what happened.”
“She was with his mother,” Richard said again.
“Yes. We understand that.”
He offered nothing more.
Richard folded the notice once, then unfolded it.
On my screen, his face looked older than it had at dinner. I felt no pleasure in that. Anger, certainly. But watching him struggle did not warm the room where my son was sleeping.
Natalie picked up the tape measure.
“I didn’t know Nicole owned it,” she said.
“You didn’t need to,” I whispered.
She had known Leo was frightened. She had seen the snow coming through the doorway. None of those facts required an ownership document to understand.
