Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR
A woman in a navy jacket stood in my hallway holding a tablet.
Sloan hurried past me.
“We moved the appointment up,” she said.
I ignored her and introduced myself.
“I own this house.”
The woman blinked.
“Nina Bell. I understood you wanted a market assessment.”
“I didn’t request one.”
Nina lowered the tablet immediately.
“Then I apologize.”
Harrison stepped forward.
“We were going to discuss it together.”
“You discussed it without me.”
“Mom—”
I raised one hand.
For once, he stopped.
Nina asked if I wanted her to leave.
I said yes, but first I wanted to know what she had been told.
“That you were considering downsizing and your son was helping coordinate.”
Sloan laughed softly.
“Which is true. She just gets overwhelmed.”
The hallway went still.
“Do I?” I asked.
“You burned my purse in front of people.”
“I did. I can regret that and still understand my own address.”
Nina closed the cover on her tablet.
“I won’t proceed without speaking directly with the owner.”
She gave me her card and left.
The click of the front door sounded wonderfully final.
Sloan spun toward Harrison.
“Say something.”
He looked exhausted.
For a second, pity stirred in me.
Then I remembered that I was the person standing in my own hallway explaining that I still owned it.
“You two need to make arrangements to leave,” I said.
“The details will come in writing.”
“You’d put your own son out?”
“I put my own son up for a year.”
I went upstairs before my voice broke.
That night, my phone began buzzing.
My cousin wanted to know if I was all right.
A neighbor offered to bring dinner.
Then Ruth sent me a screenshot.
Sloan had posted a short video from the party.
It began with my hand dropping the bag into the fire.
It ended with Harrison shouting.
There was no cake.
Underneath, Sloan had written that living with an unstable family member had become frightening.
She asked for kindness while they figured out their next steps.
Dozens of people had already supplied it.
One comment came from a woman who had eaten at my table for twenty years.
Please get her the help she needs.
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in my lap.
May you like
Then Harrison knocked.
“Now do you see why we were worried about you?”
