Chapter 5 - A Place With Windows —
Mom took screenshots.
That was the first thing she did.
Not scream. Not call Victor. Not throw the phone.
Screenshots.
Then she called the legal aid office again.
By noon, a lawyer named Andrea Brooks was sitting at our kitchen table with a canvas bag and a face that made me feel she wouldn’t scare easily.
Lisa had found her through a friend.
Lorenzo hadn’t sent her.
That mattered to Mom.
Andrea read the messages, examined the settlement, and asked before touching every piece of paper.
“Do you feel safe here tonight?”
Mom looked at the front window.
“No.”
The word seemed to cost her more than all the others.
Andrea didn’t make a speech.
She helped Mom call the police about the threats. She wrote down the report number. Then she helped arrange two rooms at a modest hotel.
When Lorenzo called, Mom put him on speaker.
“Victor came,” she said.
“I know.”
“How?”
“He told me you were trying to reopen a paid claim.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
A pause.
“I’d like to cover the hotel.”
Mom looked at Andrea.
Andrea took the phone.
“If Rachel agrees, payment goes through my office. No conditions. No access to their location.”
“Agreed.”
“No meetings with the children.”
“Agreed.”
Mom stared at the table.
Finally, she said, “Three nights.”
“Three nights,” Lorenzo repeated.
At the hotel, Noah crawled across a clean carpet while Lisa unpacked groceries.
I stood by the window.
Our room was warm all the way to the glass.
I hadn’t known that was possible.
Mom came up behind me.
“Are we hiding?” I asked.
“We’re staying somewhere safe while adults do their jobs.”
“Is Lorenzo a bad man?”
She took a long breath.
“He’s done bad things.”
“But he helped.”
“Both can be true.”
I watched cars move through the parking lot.
“Did Dad know him?”
“Not well.”
“Did Dad know Victor?”
Mom nodded.
Then she sat on the bed and reached for her purse.
“There’s something I didn’t understand before.”
She pulled out Dad’s old voicemail recording.
His voice filled the room.
“Rach, don’t let me forget. Blue lunchbox, bottom pocket. If they try anything, it’s all there.”
Mom stopped the recording.
I turned.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I know where Dad’s lunchbox is.”
For the first time that day, she looked relieved.
May you like
Until I finished.
“It’s still in the house.”
