A pause.
“Yes. The transfer went through. But the roof inspection is still pending.”
Another pause, softer still.
“Please don’t tell anyone—not yet. Too much is on the line.”
The wind carried just enough of her words to reach him.
Just enough to hook unease into his ribs.
Roof inspection?
Transfer?
Too much on the line?
After Hannah, secrecy always landed like a bruise.
Amayah ended the call quickly and stuffed her phone into her coat pocket before offering him a warm smile.
“Sorry,” she said lightly. “Just . . . something I’m working on.”
He nodded, but a sliver of doubt had already wedged itself beneath his ribs—quiet, unwelcome, impossible to ignore.
However, that was forgotten as her front yard came into view, and he saw what was happening there.
The Crump kids stood clustered near Amayah’s front steps, shoulders hunched inside threadbare sweatshirts, breaths puffing into the cold, and cheeks flushed from the winter air. None of them wore coats, gloves, or hats.
Amayah’s heart tightened.
Eli stood slightly in front of the others, thin but trying desperately to look steady—twelve and already carrying the weight of a man. Beside him hovered Clara and Benji, both wide-eyed and uncertain, while Jonah bounced restlessly on his toes as if motion might keep the cold away. Little Ruby clutched his sleeve, bottom lip trembling.
And finally, Maisie—barely three—stood silent and solemn, curls escaping her crooked ponytail, snow melting on her lashes as she moved forward to grab Eli’s hand.
Amayah slowed before crossing the space toward them. “Guys, where are your jackets?”
“We’re fine, Ms. Door Lady,” Eli said quickly, shoving his free hand deeper into the sleeve of his hoodie.
“You’re not fine,” she said gently but firmly. “You’re shivering.”
“We’re just waitin’,” Jonah added, like that explained everything.
“Waiting for what?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Just waitin’. It’ll be dark soon. Gotta get some outdoor time in. That’s what Mama always says.”
“Outdoor time is good—but you need coats, hats, and gloves. I’m sure she probably tells you that also.” Amayah wasn’t actually all that certain. Their mom seemed to barely be able to keep her head above water, and every time Amayah offered any help, Ms. Crump refused.
“You’re right.” Clara hopped in place on the sidewalk before darting toward her house. “I’ll go inside and get them.”
Amayah thought about inviting the kids inside her house for a snack or something.
But as she stepped toward her porch, she froze.
Her front door wasn’t closed, she realized.
It was open only an inch—but an inch was too much.
