“That is Sandra’s decision. But no one here can promise that the lender’s investigation will disappear.”
Tara moved toward me and crouched beside the coffee table.
“Please. I can fix it.”
She had never made herself lower than me before. The sight hurt more than I expected.
For one foolish second, I wanted to believe her. I wanted the house to be only a house again, dinner to be cooling instead of ruined, my son to have looked up sooner.
Then her fingers closed over my wrist.
“Think about what this would do to Cole.”
I gently lifted her hand away.
“He is going to have to think about that himself.”
Cole raised his head.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “I am.”
Tara turned on him.
“You said we’d get through the holiday.”
“I said you had to cancel it.”
“And you were happy not to ask again.”
He flinched.
She was right about that. I could see him accepting it.
I turned to Ruth.
“Prepare the statement.”
Tara stayed crouched for another moment. Then she stood, smoothing the knees of her trousers as if we had spilled something on them.
CHAPTER 4 – What Could Not Be Taken Back
“You’ll regret this when you’re alone,” Tara said.
Nobody moved.
The words hung in the room with all the smaller things she had said over two years, each one suddenly stripped of its pleasant smile.
Her father got to his feet.
“Get your things for tonight.”
“You’re taking her side?”
“I’m taking you out of this house before you say anything else.”
Ruth explained that their belongings and occupancy would be handled through the proper process. They were not being put on the street that night, and nobody would be changing locks behind them.
Tara barely listened.
