Gregory’s eyes dropped to the folder on the entry table.
He had been standing with the confidence of a man who thought the argument was already over.
One hand rested on his hip.
The other still pointed loosely toward the front door, as though he expected my parents to obey him eventually.
Then he saw the papers inside the folder.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Not yet.
Just enough.
The corner of his mouth tightened.
His eyes moved from the documents to me and then toward Fiona.
I put one hand flat over the papers before either of them could reach for them.
“Let’s start again,” I said.
“You said this was your house.
Explain that to me.”
Gregory gave a short laugh.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“Then explain it to Mom and Dad.”
Behind him, my mother lowered the dish towel from her face.
Her eyes were swollen and red.
Dad remained beside the table, still trembling, but now he was watching me.
Fiona set her wineglass down harder than necessary.
“Lucas, you’re turning this into something ridiculous.”
I looked at the suitcases beside the stairs.
“Who packed those?”
Silence.
“Mom?”
She shook her head.
That answer landed harder than any accusation could have.
I turned back to Fiona.
“Who packed them?”
“We were helping,” she said.
“Helping them do what?”
Gregory cut in.
“Move somewhere more appropriate.”
Dad finally found his voice.
“We never agreed to move.”
It was quiet, but everyone heard him.
Gregory looked over his shoulder.
“Samuel, don’t start this again.”
Dad’s hands shook harder.
I stepped between them.
“Don’t speak to him like that.”
Gregory’s jaw flexed.
For a second I thought he might try to intimidate me the way he had intimidated Dad.
He was bigger than I was and clearly accustomed to using that fact in arguments.
But something about the folder bothered him.
His eyes kept returning to it.
Fiona noticed too.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
I ignored the question.
Instead, I asked Mom what had happened after Fiona’s family arrived.
At first she tried to minimize it.
That was Mom’s habit.
She could turn a catastrophe into an inconvenience if she thought it would keep her children from fighting.
“They stayed longer than expected,” she said.
