Chapter 5 - The House That Was Never Sold
Everett hadn’t sold the house.
He had rented it out.
Gabriel learned that the next morning from the property records Daniel helped him locate and a conversation with Everett himself.
“Why did you tell me it was gone?”
His father sounded exhausted.
“Your mother said it would make things simpler.”
“Simpler for who?”
No answer.
After Nora’s death, Gabriel had believed his parents were giving up their home to help him.
He had paid their living expenses.
Covered a new car when Marlene said hers was unreliable.
Taken care of Everett’s dental work.
Thanked them.
Over and over, he had thanked them.
Now he sat in the same kitchen where his daughter had eaten on the floor and wondered how much gratitude had cost her.
Rachel stopped by after her shift.
“I need to tell you something.”
Gabriel waited.
“Mom said you weren’t paying her.”
“I paid all their expenses.”
“I know that now. She said you expected her to raise Amelia for free.”
“She told you that?”
“She told everyone that.”
Rachel rubbed her eyes.
“She also said Amelia had started lying.”
Gabriel went still.
“About what?”
“That Mom was mean. That she didn’t get dinner sometimes.”
Rachel’s voice cracked.
“I thought she meant Amelia didn’t like what was being served.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No.”
The word stayed between them.
Finally, Gabriel said, “Start asking now.”
Rachel nodded.
“No excuses.”
That afternoon, she spoke with her sons at home.
She called Gabriel afterward.
“The boys said it happened whenever you traveled.”
He leaned against the counter.
“The floor?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“They don’t know. Enough that Theo thought it was a rule.”
Gabriel covered his eyes.
Rachel kept talking.
“Bryce tried taking his plate into the kitchen once. Mom told him he’d lose his phone if he joined her.”
“Did he stop?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel could hear her crying now.
“They’re children, Gabe. She made them part of it.”
He thought about Bryce staring at his potatoes.
Theo refusing to look up.
Not indifference.
Fear.
That night, Gabriel found a folded paper beneath his office door.
Amelia had drawn their dining table.
Six chairs.
She had labeled five with family names.
The sixth had a purse on it.
Under the drawing, in careful handwriting, she had written:
I tried to be good.
Gabriel sat down hard.
His phone buzzed beside him.
May you like
A message from Marlene.
If you keep making accusations, people will hear what kind of father you really are.
