I wrap the muffin in a napkin and stuff it into my bag. Then I head for the door, swinging it open.
There’s a man in a white shirt and navy pants at the end of our yard putting a for sale sign at the edge of our property.
“Hey!” I yell, charging forward. “What are you doing?”
He glances up at me and offers his hand and a smile. “I’m Rodger Smith.”
My lip turns up and I place my hands on my hips. “Well,Rodger Smith, what do you think you’re doing?”
He takes his hand back and rubs the back of his neck. “The listing goes live today, so I wanted to make sure I—”
“The listing? What are you talking about?” My heart sinks to my shoes and my mouth goes dry, staring at the sign with Rodger’s annoying face on it next to large red “FOR SALE” letters.
This has to be a mistake. This is my home, but it’s so much more than that. It was Mallory’s home. My mother’s home.
Rodger grimaces, looking past me to the house. “Is your father here?”
“What?” My heart speeds up so much I’m afraid it’ll jump out of my chest.
“Jon? I know he said he would be busy today, but is he still here?” He continues rambling, but I block him out. He’s background noise in the horror I feel.
It’s not true. Dad would’ve told me about this. You don’t just sell a house without talking to the other people who live in it with you. There’s no way this man is telling the truth. My dad wouldn’t do this to me.
“No!” I scream and wrap my hands around the sign post, ripping it out of the ground.
“Hey,” he says, trying to grab it. “I’m just doing my job.”
I throw the sign to the ground and stomp on it, kicking it until it cracks. “We aren’t selling our house!” I thought abusing the sign would make me feel better, but it doesn’t lessen the burning confusion in my heart. Did Dad really choose to sell my home?
Mrs. Meyers, who had been watering her flowers, comes running into our yard. “Emma, it’s okay!”
It’s not okay.
She grabs my hand, pulling me back and I let her. I can’t fight an elderly woman.
Rodger takes the sign and staggers back. He brushes off his scuffed face printed on the sign. “I’ll come when Mr. Adler is home.”
My hands are in fists and I swing even though I’m nowhere near him. “Don’t bother!”
He scurries back to his car and starts it merely seconds after he jumps in, but Mrs. Meyers doesn’t let me go until Rodger has made it a safe distance down the road. Too far for me to chase after his car and do any more damage.
“Breaking the sign isn’t going to stop your dad from selling the house.”
I stare at her with anger-filled tears in my eyes. My nostrils flare as my lip wobbles. “Did you know?”
She sighs, rubbing her forehead.
Mrs. Meyers and her husband live next door. It’s the Meyers, us, and the house that used to belong to Myles’s family.
“I figured it was only a matter of time,” she says.
Why did she say it like it was only natural to sell the house? Was everyone expecting it except for me?
“What do you mean?”
She looks up at the sky. Maybe it’s easier than looking at me. “How is he supposed to pay for it now?”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from yelling. She’s right, but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to acknowledge how different my life is now. Time stopped after Mallory died. My dad went from searching the river banks for hours to barely getting out of bed in the mornings when they said she was “presumed dead.”
