“But that part can wait.”
“The ramp couldn’t.”
Nineteen people held their breath.
That was when the truck came up Cedar Hollow Road.
Kyle’s truck.
He’d found the address the same way I had.
He parked crooked across the end of the driveway.
He got out already talking.
“Mama. Get in the truck.”
“We’re going home.”
“Kyle—”
He came up the drive fast, past the casseroles, past Brenda, past Dale and his card.
He didn’t see the ramp.
He didn’t see the lights.
He saw his mother standing next to a man at the top of a ramp with nineteen people watching, and he did what scared men do.
He grabbed my arm.
Hard.
Above the elbow.
“You’re not doing this. He’s not getting Dad’s money. I won’t let him.”
And Rachel, from the bottom of the ramp, said the sentence that stopped the whole yard.
“Kyle. Dad’s money is already gone. You took it.”
