“I did.”
“And now you’re sending me away?”
Michael stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
Linda’s expression changed.
“I was trying to help my son.”
Linda never considered herself cruel. And loyalty, when stretched far enough, can become a way of never asking difficult questions.
“I didn’t realize it was yours.”
“My initials are on the sleeve.”
“I didn’t notice.”
At the door, she paused beside Michael.
“You can call me.”
Michael nodded. Finally, I faced Michael.
“Put my things back inside.”
“What?”
“You took them out. Put them back.”
“Emily—”
“No.”
“I worked fourteen hours today. I came home and found my life in the hallway. I am not spending the next hour dragging everything back inside while you explain why it was justified.”
One by one, Michael carried my things back. Three file folders. A framed photograph of my grandparents. Because it meant he had known exactly what he was doing when he set them outside.
