Chương 10
Lauren groaned softly.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You can’t keep saying that.”
Robert turned.
“She’s sitting there in a thousand-dollar coat.”
Emily looked down at the charcoal wool.
It had cost eight hundred and forty dollars on sale.
She suddenly hated knowing that.
“What does my coat have to do with anything?”
“It means you did fine.”
“That is not a legal standard.”
“There you go again.”
Robert pushed back his chair.
“Everything is legal this, legal that.”
“Because you forged my name.”
“I signed paperwork.”
“With my name.”
“I had your authorization.”
Emily went still.
“No, you didn’t.”
“You signed the original application.”
“I signed an application you told me had been canceled.”
“You authorized the loan.”
“I authorized a student loan for tuition.”
“It was an education loan.”
“The funds went into your business account.”
Robert’s eyes shifted.
There.
Tiny.
But enough.
Emily leaned forward.
“You knew that part was a problem.”
Robert said nothing.
“Dad.”
“It was temporary.”
“You told the lender the money was for my education.”
“I told them what was necessary.”
Lauren covered her face with one hand.
Linda whispered, “Robert, stop.”
He turned on her.
“You wanted the bills paid too.”
Linda’s face drained.
Emily looked from one parent to the other.
“What bills?”
Linda shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“What bills?”
Robert laughed sharply.
“Oh, now she cares.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“About what?”
“The house.”
“This house?”
“Yes, this house.”
Lauren looked alarmed.
“Dad, don’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to twist it.”
Robert pointed at Emily.
“She thinks I took eighteen thousand dollars and bought a boat.”
“No one said that.”
“I kept the lights on.”
Emily looked at Linda.
“Were you behind on the mortgage?”
Linda hesitated.
“Two payments.”
“And utilities?”
“A little.”
“How much of the loan went here?”
Robert answered.
“About six thousand.”
“And the rest?”
“Business payroll.”
Emily wrote it down.
Robert watched her pen.
“You really taking notes on your own family?”
“Yes.”
“That’s sick.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“This is what happens when nobody tells the truth consistently.”
Noah shifted in his chair.
Emily noticed.
She closed the legal pad again.
“He shouldn’t be here for this.”
Lauren nodded immediately.
“Noah, go upstairs.”
He looked at his mother.
“I know most of it.”
Lauren’s face tightened.
“How?”
Noah shrugged.
“You guys aren’t quiet.”
Robert pushed away from the table.
“This is ridiculous.”
Noah looked at him.
“You yell.”
The room went silent.
Robert stared at his grandson.
Noah did not look away.
Lauren stood.
“Come on.”
“I’m fourteen.”
“I’m aware.”
“I’m not five.”
“I’m also aware.”
Noah looked at Emily.
“Are we getting kicked out tomorrow?”
Emily felt every adult in the room become still.
She had answered versions of this question for investors, counsel, asset managers, judges, reporters, tenants’ advocates, and nervous junior analysts.
Never like this.
“I don’t control the foreclosure.”
Noah frowned.
“That’s not what Grandpa said.”
Emily looked at Robert.
“What did you tell him?”
Robert folded his arms.
“I told him you have influence.”
“You told him I could stop it.”
“I told him the truth.”
Emily’s voice went cold.
“You used him.”
Robert’s face reddened.
“I did no such thing.”
“You made a fourteen-year-old believe whether he loses his home depends on me.”
“It does depend on you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Emily stood so quickly her chair scraped backward.
“No, it depends on seven years of missed payments, bad loans, failed modifications, and decisions I had nothing to do with.”
Linda began crying.
Robert pointed toward Emily.
“There.”
He looked at Noah.
“That’s what she thinks of us.”
Noah’s face closed.
Emily felt the damage immediately.
Not because Noah believed Robert.
Because he had been forced to choose what to believe at all.
“Stop,” Emily said.
Robert continued.
“She walks in here after seven years and acts like we’re strangers.”
“You are.”
Linda made a broken sound.
Lauren stood.
“Enough.”
Robert ignored her.
“We fed you.”
Emily laughed in disbelief.
“Oh, we’re doing that now?”
“We paid for everything.”
“You borrowed in my name.”
“For this family.”
“I was nineteen.”
“And living under this roof.”
Emily’s hand flattened against the table.
“Do you hear yourself?”
Robert stared at her.
For the first time, his anger faltered.
Emily looked at Noah.
“I’m sorry.”
He frowned.
“For what?”
“For having this conversation in front of you.”
He glanced at Robert.
“Everybody keeps saying sorry for conversations instead of stuff.”
No one answered.
Noah stood.
“I’m going upstairs.”
Lauren reached for him.
He moved past her.
At the stairs, he stopped and looked back at Emily.
“I still have the truck.”
Emily blinked.
“What?”
“The yellow one.”
For a second she could not place it.
Then she did.
The garage-sale dump truck.
Her throat tightened.
“You kept it?”
Noah shrugged.
“It’s in a box.”
He went upstairs.
The sound of his bedroom door closing carried through the house.
Lauren sat down slowly.
“Congratulations,” she said to Robert.
He glared at her.
“Don’t.”
“No, seriously.”
She laughed without humor.
“You turned foreclosure into a loyalty test for a kid.”
Robert slapped one palm against the table.
“I am trying to save this family.”
Lauren flinched.
Linda looked down.
Emily noticed the movement.
Small.
Automatic.
Not fear of being hit.
Fear of sound.
The distinction did not comfort her.
“Where are the documents?” Emily asked.
Robert looked at her.
“Basement.”
“Get them.”
“Come with me.”
“I’ll wait here.”
His mouth tightened.
“You think I’m going to alter them between here and downstairs?”
“I don’t know what you’ll do.”
That landed.
Robert stared at her for a long moment, then walked toward the basement door.
Lauren waited until his footsteps disappeared down the stairs.
Then she looked at Emily.
“He’s been going through boxes since six this morning.”
“Did he find everything?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Mom knew more.”
Linda wiped beneath her eyes with one finger.
“I already told you.”
“No.”
Emily turned toward her.
“You told me what Dad did.”
May you like
Linda looked confused.
“That’s what you wanted to know.”
