Old keys gave no permission.
Family custom gave no permission.
Previous invitations gave no permanent permission.
Adam exhaled dramatically.
“I know the house is Lily’s.
Nobody is disputing that.”
“Ruth believed otherwise,” Mr.
Ellis said.
Adam’s face changed again.
Mr.
Ellis continued.
During the final year of Grandma’s life, she had apparently spoken with him several times about the way our family used her house and, later, assumed it would remain available through me.
Grandma had noticed Adam arriving without warning.
She had noticed Mom telling relatives they could use the spare room without asking me.
She had noticed Brooke once referring to the house as “basically the family place.”
Most of all, Grandma had noticed how often I rearranged my life after everyone else had already made theirs.
I closed my eyes.
I could hear her voice as clearly as if she were sitting in the armchair beside me.
You make yourself convenient, Lily, and then wonder why people treat you like convenience.
She had said that once while we folded towels together.
At the time, I had smiled and changed the subject.
Apparently Grandma had not.
“This is ridiculous,” Adam said.
“Grandma loved having everyone over.”
“She did,” Mr.
Ellis replied.
“When she invited them.”
That sentence landed harder than anything I could have said.
Brooke folded her arms.
“We have a flight in less than two hours.
Can we do the family therapy later?”
I looked through the camera at Noah rubbing his eyes.
Ellie hugged a stuffed rabbit against her chest.
Mason sat on the top step, confused by the adults circling around him.
My anger settled into something colder.
“Take the kids somewhere warm,” I told Adam.
“They shouldn’t be standing there while you argue.”
“Then open the door.”
“No.”
He stared at the camera.
“You’d really make us miss our flight?”
“I didn’t book your flight.”
“You knew we were going away.”
“I learned last night that you had assigned me your children.
That isn’t the same thing.”
Brooke stepped closer to the door.
“We thought you’d be happy to have them.”
“Then why didn’t you ask?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
That was the first crack.
Not the lawyer.
Not the locks.
A simple question nobody could answer without admitting the truth.
They had not asked because they did not think they had to.
Mr.
