That was the first time Susan looked truly defeated.
The siren grew louder, then stopped outside the house.
Two investigators entered with a uniformed deputy. Marian spoke with them at the door, presenting the documents. Susan remained in the center of the room, her arms hanging at her sides.
When the deputy asked her to step outside, she looked at Jake.
He did not move toward her.
“Jake,” she whispered.
His eyes closed for one second.
Then he said, “Go.”
She looked at Betty next. For all her cruelty, she seemed to expect something from the older woman: a plea, an accusation, perhaps the satisfaction of watching her leave.
Betty gave her none of those things.
She held Frank’s photograph against her chest and said, “You were never entitled to what my husband and I built.”
Susan’s mouth trembled.
The deputy guided her toward the door. She resisted once, twisting her shoulder away.
“This is my family,” she said.
Harold rose from the chair. His voice was low.
“You made yourself a stranger.”
Susan was led into the rain.
The door closed.
For several seconds, the house remained completely silent.
Then Jake sank into the chair Susan’s parents had brought from the dining room. He covered his face with both hands. His shoulders began to shake, but no sound came from him.
Betty stood near the wall, too tired to feel victorious.
Marian gathered the papers carefully. “The investigators will need statements from all of you.”
Harold nodded without looking up.
Martha walked to Betty. She stopped several feet away, leaving a wide space between them.
“I owe you an apology,” Martha said.
Betty looked at her.
“I repeated things Susan told me. I believed you were confused. I believed this house was too much for you. I saw how she spoke to you, and I said nothing because I wanted the room.”
Her eyes filled again.
“I am ashamed.”
Betty glanced toward the staircase. “You can stay tonight. The storm is bad, and I won’t put you on the road.”
Martha covered her mouth.
“But you will sleep in the guest room,” Betty continued. “You will not touch anything upstairs. In the morning, you will decide where you go. This is kindness. It is not permission to remain.”
Martha nodded. “I understand.”
Harold looked at Betty. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”
“Maybe not,” Betty said. “But I don’t want Susan’s cruelty to become mine.”
The words quieted him.
Jake lowered his hands. His eyes were swollen and red.
“Can I stay in the garage?” he asked.
Betty’s jaw tightened. “Why?”
“Because I have nowhere else.”
