I had never requested it.
Dad knew.
Apparently Mom had ensured Lauren did not.
Lauren turned toward her.
“You said Grandma’s estate barely covered the nursing home.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
Mom suddenly pointed toward Ethan.
“This is him. He’s turned you against us.”
Ethan shook his head.
“I didn’t spit in her face.”
That quieted even Lauren.
I opened the storm door just enough to slide the copies onto the porch, then secured it again.
“These are the records. Dad borrowed money from me. Dad repaid it. The new house was purchased with our savings, the inheritance account, and a mortgage. You can believe the documents or continue telling lies.”
Mom stared at the papers but refused to pick them up.
“You think a bigger house makes you better than us?” she asked.
“No. I think locking my door keeps me safer from you.”
Her face turned white.
She moved closer.
“You will regret embarrassing me.”
I almost laughed.
“You spat on me at Christmas dinner.”
Behind her, Lauren was scrolling quickly through her phone.
Then she looked up.
“Mom,” she said slowly, “why does Dad’s business address show a second mortgage filed against your house last year?”
Diane turned around.
For the first time since arriving, she appeared frightened.
That afternoon, Dad returned alone.
He sat at our kitchen table with both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee he never touched.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said.
“What?”
He swallowed.
“Your mother didn’t come here because she believed you stole from us.”
I stared at him.
“She came because she needs money.”
Dad finally raised the coffee, but his hands were trembling badly enough that the cup clicked against its saucer.
“How much?” I asked.
He looked at Ethan, then back at me.
“A little over ninety thousand.”
I thought I had misunderstood him.
“Ninety thousand dollars?”
Dad nodded.
Ethan pulled out the chair opposite him.
“What happened?”
