“She doesn’t lie to me.”
He bobs his head with a slow nod. “Why did you think it was her?”
“I told you. Because she was here yesterday, and she mentioned—” I cut myself off, trying to decide how to tell him the truth. Do I even owe him the truth? About any of this? It’s not his problem anymore. “It doesn’t matter. She was mostly worried about the storm coming in tonight.”
“Who texted Dad?” Taylor asks, suddenly interested in the conversation. “Was it before the police got here?”
Lewis balks. “The police?”
Moths flutter through my veins. “It’s nothing—” I try to say, but Taylor is already telling him everything, laying bare my every flaw.
“Someone broke in and ruined all of my stuff. And then Mom had to change the lock so they couldn’t come back. The police were here and everything, and we found all this trash like someone has been living here. It was, like, straight out of ahorror movie. And”—she takes a deep breath, as if the worst is yet to come—“we still don’t have internet.”
Lewis looks back and forth from her to me in a state of shock. Finally, he lands,rather firmly, on me. “Someone broke in, and you had to call the police, and you didn’t think you might want to let me know?”
Something in his tone switches something in mine. “It’s not your concern anymore.”
“It’s my concern as long as my daughter is involved. If she’s in danger?—”
“She’s not in danger.” I run a hand along my face, my voice powerless. “She’s fine. We don’t even know that anyone broke in.”
“But someone damaged her things.”
“Water. Water damaged her things. The police told me to change the lock to be on the safe side, which I did. We’re fine, Lewis.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“The house has been empty. There are bound to be road bumps. I’m a big girl. Her parent. An equal part of this, don’t forget. I can handle things just as well as you can.”
His eyes shift between mine, reading me. “Taylor, could you go to your room for a minute?”
“What? Why?” she argues. “What did I do?”
“I need to talk to your mom.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about,” I say, but Taylor is already getting up. If it had been me, she would’ve fought much harder.
The second she’s gone, Lewis’s voice softens, both in tone and volume. “Maybe she should come stay with me for a while.”
The sentence is a punch to the gut after everything I went through to ensure she would be with me this summer. “What? No. Absolutely not. She’s fine. We’re fine.”
He puts his hands up. He knows, of course, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on here. It’s already been agreed upon that she’ll be with me until school starts back. At which point, if she’d like to go to school here, she can. And if she wants to return to her old school, I’ll either have to buy a house in that district, or she’ll stay with her father for the term and visit me during holidays.
The latter isn’t an option, obviously. If it comes to it, I’ll do whatever it takes to have an address that allows her to stay with me.
“I’m not saying you aren’t. I just know you’ve got a lot on your plate.” He looks around at the mess of boxes yet to be unpacked. “Let her come with me for a week, give yourself time to settle in, and then I’ll bring her back.”
“Absolutely not. She’s old enough to help.”
“Right. Just how every teenager dreams of spending their summer.” He turns back to the sink, flipping on the water, but I grab the faucet, pulling it to the opposite side and flicking it back off.
“I don’t need you to do the dishes. We’ve had breakfast. I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Are you really going to do this? We agreed to be civil. I’m trying to help.”
“I’m being civil.”
“Let her come with me.”
