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Natalie

Her mother doesn’t notice as Natalie hovers at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping on the call with the lawyer.

Who cares if it’s sneaky, childish behavior? It’s the only way she’ll hear the truth.

She knows in her gut that her dad didn’t kill that guy.

And her dad isn’t stupid, or her mother never would have fallen for him.

So if he isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t bother killing her mom’s boyfriend, even if he was jealous. Murderers usually get caught. Why screw up the life you’re working so hard to put back together?

This is the logic upon which she’s built the sandcastle of her heart. So the lawyer had better be good at her job.

“I don’t understand,” her mother is saying. “He could go anywhere. Why would he have to stay here?”

Stay here? Natalie listens so hard that she might actually sprain something. Because it sounds like the lawyer is suggesting that her father move in here—to their house—if he’s released.

When her mother speaks again, she sounds aggrieved. “What did he say when you floated this idea past him?”

Natalie can’t hear the lawyer’s response, and it’s killing her.

“But I haven’t shared a house with him in fifteen years. We’re not a couple.”

More unforgiving silence.

“Does he have a backup plan?” her mom asks hopefully. The answer she gets makes her flinch. “There’s no girlfriend he could ask?”

There must not be, because her mother grips the muscle in her shoulder—the one that’s always bothering her. “I know housing is tight in Portland, but it’s still a big ask. What happens if he can’t provide an address to the judge?”

Another pause.

“I just don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Natalie says from the stairs, and her mother whips around, startled. “We can put him in your so-called office.” Natalie points toward her old playroom, with its peeling paint and the terrible old wallpaper. “Nobody uses that room.”

“Can I call you back?” her mother asks with a sigh. “Thank you.” Then she gives Natalie a glare. “Are you listening in on my phone call? That’s not cool.”

“You’re in the middle of the living room. And how else will I ever learn anything about him? You pretended for years like he doesn’t exist. You didn’t answer his messages, even when he had something important to say. And now I’m supposed to believe you’ll level with me if I don’t listen in?”

Her mother’s expression softens. “I’ll tell you everything I know, Natty. But that’s almost nothing.”

“Why did the lawyer ask you if he could stay here?”

Her mother flops back against the couch like she’s exhausted. “Because they’ll make it a condition of his release that he can provide a home address. And he can’t go back to that room he was renting, because a felon lives at that address, and it’s against the terms of his parole.”

“ Oh . And you can’t rent a new apartment from a jail cell.”

“Right. He needs somewhere to go until he can find a new situation. But you shouldn’t pretend that inviting him into this house wouldn’t be a big deal.”

It is a big deal, but that’s why Natalie needs it to happen. “We have the room. And it’s only temporary.”

Her mother actually rolls her eyes. “It’s not like the cat, honey.”

“No, it’s easier than the cat, because he’d probably show more gratitude. And Lickie won’t be afraid of him.”

Her mother snorts.

“Mom, either you believe he’s innocent, and deserving of help, or you don’t. Which is it?”

“It’s not that simple!” She throws her hands in the air. “He let us down once before, baby. In the worst way. I can’t just pretend like that never happened.”

“Mama,” she says, hating the tremble in her voice. “You talked to him. Did he really seem like a psycho who will turn on us? Really? ”

She considers the question. “No, not really. But baby—my record for trusting people is not good. He’s the reason I don’t take chances anymore.”

Natalie moves down the stairs and perches on the back of the couch. “What if he just needs a break, and we could give it to him?”

Her mother stares up at the ceiling. “We don’t even have a first-floor shower.”

“ Mom .” There’s fury rising in her heart. “It’s literally your job to create spaces where families can ‘flourish and grow.’ ” She uses air quotes. “That was on the website you started to make. Did you even mean it?”

“That’s marketing!”

“So no, then?” She jumps off the back of the sofa and heads for the stairs. She can’t sit here and listen to this. “Way to be generous. Thanks for nothing.”