Page 57 of Ghosts Don't Cry

“Saw your light on, and the front door wasn’t locked.” I sigh. I knew I shouldn’t have left it unlocked when I went out to get some of the tools I’d left in the car. He comes down, taking care on the worn steps. “Figured you could use this.”

The coffee he holds out is black and steaming in the morning chill. I take it because refusing feels like more effort than it’s worth.

“You always check on your neighbors at dawn, or am I special?”

He settles on an old wooden crate. Apparently, he’s not planning to leave any time soon.

“Only the ones who sound like they’re trying to tear their house apart before sunrise.”

I go back to stripping wire, but can feel his eyes on me. It’s not the same as when Dan watched me the other day. He was looking for weakness, for proof I’m still the fuck-up everyone remembers. Tom’s gaze is different. It’s more assessing than judging.

“Harris used to work early too,” he says finally. “Said morning was when everything felt possible.”

The wire strippers slip, nearly cutting my hand. “Did you know him well?”

“Well enough.” He sips his coffee, watching me work. “Enough to know he wasn’t the type to make decisions lightly. Especially not ones like this.”

I don’t ask him to explain what he means. He tells me anyway.

“We talked about you sometimes. He said you had more integrity in your little finger than most people manage in a lifetime.”

My hands still. The wire I’m holding trembles slightly.

“He was wrong.”

“Was he?” Tom leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You could have walked away from this place. No one would have known. Yet here you are, doing the work, and not only that, you’re doing itright.”

“Because I have to. The conditions of his will?—”

“The conditions require you to stay and make the house livable. They don’t require you to rewrite the entire electrical circuit yourself. At dawn. Because you can’t sleep.”

The observation hits a little too close. I go back to stripping wire.

“He saw something in you. Something worth investing in. Worth believing in. Maybe it’s time you saw that too.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to snap and tell him to get out. I focus on the job in front of me.

“You’re pretty good at that. Where did you learn?”

“Prison.” I snap the word, and wait for him to make up a reason to leave.

He doesn’t. “Harris mentioned you were studying. He said you had a mind for engineering, and understanding how things fit together.”

I slap the cutters down. “Stop! Just … stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting like you know me.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, turning his coffee cup around in his hands. “You’re right. Idon’tknow you.” His voice doesn’t lose that calm, patient tone. “But Ididknow Harris, and I knewhow much it ate at him that he didn’t help you when you were at school. He said he saw the signs, but didn’t put them together until it was too late, and by then …”

My throat closes around words I can’t say, memories I can’t face, and the knowledge that Edwards has left me something I don’t deserve.

“The HOA is going to have opinions about all this work.” There’s a humorous note to his voice now, as he changes the topic. “Beverly is already circling. She’ll be on the hunt for code violations.”

“Let them look. Everything will be up to code.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He stands, brushing invisible dust from his pants. “I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Beverly likes things a certain way, and you’re not exactly what she expected for this street.”