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The son noticed around the third time. “Dad.”

Nick didn’t even turn around. “Don’t.”

“But that suitcase was upstairs.”

“I said don’t.”

I laughed.

They had also already called Mama.

I knew because the father stood outside with his phone pressed to his ear, pacing back and forth while his wife and the teenagers hurried in and out of the house grabbing the last of their belongings.

“Mrs. Black, I understand what you’re saying, but no. We’re not staying another night.”

He listened.

His wife came down the front steps with two suitcases, moving so fast she nearly missed one of them.

“Tell her to hurry,” she hissed.

He covered the phone with one hand. “She’s on the way.”

“Good.”

The daughter came out next with a duffel bag and immediately hurried toward the car without even looking back at the mansion. Her brother wasn’t much better.

By the time Mama’s car came through the gates, they were loading the last of their luggage into the vehicles.

She parked crooked in the driveway and got out looking completely confused. “What in the world is going on?”

Nick slammed the trunk shut. “We’re leaving!”

Mama scoffed. “Well, I got that memo over the phone already, but I still don’t understand why. You haven’t even been here twenty-four hours.”

His wife came down the steps carrying one final bag. “That was more than enough!”

Mama looked between the four of them. “What happened?”

All four started talking at once, each of them desperate to explain what had happened from their own point of view, their voices running into one another as they jumped from the lights to the television, the cabinets, the footsteps, and everything else that had scared the hell out of them.

Mama’s head moved from one person to another while they piled detail on top of detail.

She finally held up both hands. “Wait! One at a time!”

Nick rubbed his palms down his face. “Mrs. Black, you can keep the deposit… and the rent.”

“I am not keeping a full month’s rent when you stayed one night.”

“Then donate it, burn it… buy yourself something nice! I don’t care!”

Mama glanced toward the house. “This has to be some type of logical explanation! I can have an electrician come out today!”

“Lady, what we witnessed last night is not a wiring issue!” Constance shouted.

I grinned.

Finally.