Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
He was running down the steps, his tie crooked and his coat flying open in the damp wind. He stopped two steps above me, breathing heavily.
“Mom, please,” Nathan said. “I didn’t know. I swear to you, I didn’t know about the signature or the loan.”
“You knew she changed the locks on your father’s house, Nathan,” I said, my voice quiet against the sound of the traffic.
“She said it was for security,” he said, his hand reaching out toward my shoulder, then dropping when I did not move. “She said we needed to protect the house from the creditors. I was just trying to keep the peace.”
“You let her put my suitcases in the driveway,” I said.
“I’ll make her leave,” he said, his voice cracking as he looked back toward the courthouse doors. “We can set things right. We can move back into the house together.”
Sable came through the double doors twenty feet above us. She did not look at Nathan or at me. She walked past us with her chin held high, her heels clicking a sharp, rapid rhythm on the wet marble as she headed toward the parking garage.
