Lucas carried the last one to the curb.
When he returned, he did not enter immediately. He stood on the porch with his hands at his sides.
I watched him through the glass.
“Come in,” I said.
He stepped across the threshold.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I’ll leave tonight.”
“I know.”
“I’ll find somewhere else.”
“I know.”
“I don’t expect you to let me stay.”
“I didn’t ask you to leave forever.”
His eyes rose to mine.
I took a breath.
“You can stay in the upstairs suite for thirty days while you arrange your housing. Not as my son claiming a right. As my son asking for shelter.”
He pressed his lips together.
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me yet. There are conditions.”
“Anything.”
“You will give Evelyn every message, email, and document. You will tell the truth about what you knew. You will not contact Sarah about the case except through her attorney. And you will attend counseling before you ask me to trust you again.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
“And Lucas?”
“Yes?”
“You will never say ‘they’re family’ to me as an excuse for cruelty again.”
His face tightened.
“I won’t.”
He came farther into the room, but stopped several feet away.
I could see how badly he wanted to hug me.
I could also see that he understood he had lost the right to assume I would allow it.
That was the first decent thing he had done all day.
I crossed the space between us.
His arms closed around me carefully, almost timidly.
He was still my child. That did not erase what he had done. It only made the truth more painful and more worth facing.
I held him for three breaths.
Then I stepped away.
Evelyn remained in the study, organizing the evidence.
“Robert planned for this,” I said.
“He planned for the possibility,” she replied. “He hoped he was wrong.”
“Why didn’t he tell me about the loan?”
