Chapter 4
Dad called the bank before I left.
The bank wouldn't discuss every detail over the phone, but it arranged an appointment for the next morning. Dad asked me and Mr. Bell to join him. His voice stayed steady until the call ended.
Then he rubbed his forehead.
“I hate not knowing what happened in my own house.”
I knew the feeling.
On the drive home, I thought about the folder Vanessa had been watching. It contained papers Dad had carefully kept in the study for years. She knew where he put things. She knew when he was too tired to argue.
When I walked in, Lily was in the kitchen.
“Mom went to see a lawyer,” she said.
“That's her choice.”
Lily nodded. She opened the refrigerator, closed it, then turned back to me.
“I owe you a real apology.”
I set my bag on the counter.
“I wasn't sure you knew my things were being moved.”
“I did. I knew the room wasn't empty. Mom told me you didn't mind, and I didn't ask because I wanted it.”
That was more honest than what she'd said at the table.
“I would have told you no,” I replied.
“I know.”
We stood in the kitchen for a moment. Lily had moved in when she was thirteen. We'd shared rides to school and fought over bathroom time. When Dad fell, she'd called me crying because she was afraid for him too.
I didn't know what to do with that history.
“Why did you need my room so badly?” I asked.
Lily leaned against the counter.
“I didn't. My new job has me working from home twice a week. Mom said the extra space would help. I let her turn that into a reason to move you.”
“Your room has a desk.”
“I know.”
She looked ashamed. I believed her apology, but I needed time before I could be comfortable around her again.
“I appreciate you saying it,” I told her.
Vanessa returned after dinner. She carried a folder under her arm and went straight upstairs.
The next morning, Dad came to the bank with a driver from the rehabilitation center. He walked slowly, but he insisted on coming inside himself.
A bank employee reviewed the household account with us. The bills were paid. There were also several transfers Dad didn't recognize.
The money had gone to an account in Vanessa's name.
“She said she needed money for home repairs,” Dad told the employee.
I thought of the back steps, which still needed work.
The employee gave Dad copies of the transactions he was authorized to receive and explained how he could secure his accounts. Mr. Bell said we'd need to review the records carefully before deciding what to do next.
I watched Dad read the amounts. His hand shook slightly.
Vanessa had used his authorization for bills. Dad had trusted her with it while he learned to walk comfortably again.
“She might have an explanation,” I said.
Dad looked at me.
“I'll hear it. I won't pretend I know what it is.”
We returned to the rehabilitation center so he could rest. Mr. Bell planned to speak with Vanessa's attorney. He also arranged for Dad to end her access to the household account and set up a new way to pay the bills.
That afternoon, Vanessa called me.
“I hear you dragged Marcus to the bank.”
“He wanted to go.”
“He's recovering. You keep upsetting him.”
“He had questions about transfers.”
There was silence.
“Those were for household expenses,” she said.
“Tell him what they paid for.”
“I intend to.”
“Good.”
She ended the call.
At home, a contractor's truck was parked near our driveway. A man stood on the porch looking at his phone.
“Are you Mara?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I'm here about the house.”
My chest tightened.
“What about it?”
He showed me an appointment request. Someone had asked him to look at the property's value and discuss possible work before putting it on the market.
“Who contacted you?”
“Vanessa.”
I looked at the date. The appointment had been booked before Dad signed the deed.
“I didn't ask for this,” I said. “I'm the owner. Please cancel it.”
The man apologized and left. I watched his truck disappear before I went inside.
Vanessa sat at the dining table.
“You shouldn't have sent him away.”
“You booked someone to discuss selling the house.”
“I was exploring our options.”
“Dad didn't ask you to.”
“He needs care, Mara. Care costs money.”
“Then talk to him. Don't arrange a sale behind his back.”
She stood.
“Your father loved me before he signed that paper. He didn't suddenly become someone who could throw me away.”
I could hear how frightened she was beneath her anger. I also knew she had moved my mother's things without asking me.
“I haven't asked Dad to throw you away,” I said. “I asked you to stop making choices for us.”
Vanessa walked past me, carrying the folder she'd brought home the night before.
May you like
Lily appeared on the stairs.
“Mom told me the house had to be sold,” she said quietly. “She said we needed the money.”
