Chapter 4 - The House on Alder Street
The little girl on the porch held a yellow rain boot against her chest, even though the sky was perfectly clear.
"Mom says we might have to leave again," she told me.
Her mother, Teresa Morales, stood inside the doorway with her arms folded. She had spent seven months in a motel after the flood and another four paying off the money she borrowed to replace ruined furniture.
"Your husband promised this house was safe," Teresa said. "I brought my kids home because your name was on that paper."
I had prepared myself for yelling. I wasn't ready for that.
"You believed the report," I said. "You had every reason to. I'm sorry someone used my name to fool you."
Weller and his inspection team entered with Teresa's permission. I stayed out of their way, answering technical questions without pretending I could approve anything. After half an hour, Weller came back upstairs.
"No one stays here tonight," he said. "The foundation work needs an independent review."
Teresa's knees seemed to loosen. Her daughter dropped the boot.
"Where are we supposed to go?" Teresa asked.
Weller explained that the county could arrange emergency lodging while its staff reviewed the grant file. Imani made calls to a local relief group about meals and transportation. I carried two bags to Teresa's car because she was shaking too hard to fasten the zippers.
As we crossed the driveway, a black truck stopped at the curb. Ryan climbed out wearing the same navy jacket he'd worn the day Diane attacked me.
"June, this is a misunderstanding," he called. "You're scaring my clients."
I kept walking. "I don't have anything to say to you."
Weller moved between us. "Mr. Calder, the county is handling the property review. Please step back."
May you like
Ryan stared at my bandaged shoulder, then at Teresa's children in the car. He looked annoyed, not worried.
My phone vibrated. It was a text from an unknown number: YOU'VE FOUND SIX. ASK RYAN ABOUT THE SEVENTH.
