Chapter 2
Helen called Richard from the empty bedroom.
"Come home. Bring Megan."
She carried her suitcase downstairs and left it beside the staircase. She had brought it home to unpack. Now it stood unopened beneath the wall where her family photograph used to hang.
Richard and Megan arrived thirty minutes later.
Megan did not hug her. She stopped when she saw the empty space on the wall, then quickly looked away.
Richard picked up his bathrobe from the floor.
Helen waited for one of them to apologize.
Richard folded the robe over his arm.
Neither of them did.
"Why did you rent out my bedroom?"
"The master suite earns eighty dollars more a night," Richard said.
His answer came without hesitation. It sounded like a number he had repeated many times.
Helen looked at Megan.
Her daughter shifted her handbag higher on her shoulder.
"It was empty, Mom."
Upstairs, the closet held nothing but wooden hangers. Helen had spent four months sleeping in Diane's guest room because she believed her own room was waiting for her.
"I didn't move out."
"We know," Megan said.
"You knew I was coming home today."
A brief silence passed between father and daughter.
Then Richard sighed.
"We can adjust the schedule."
Helen felt the first crack in her control.
"The schedule?"
"You're making this bigger than it is," he said. "We only used a few rooms that were sitting empty. That's all."
"A stranger slept in my bed."
"He was a paying guest, Helen. Stop talking as if we let someone break into the house."
"He wore your clothes."
Richard glanced at the robe over his arm.
"He shouldn't have done that."
Something inside Helen pulled painfully tight.
Megan stepped closer, but her face held more impatience than concern.
"We weren't trying to hurt you. The income has been helping the family. Utilities, cleaning, renovations—none of that is free."
"This is my house."
"No one said it wasn't," Richard replied. "But the house costs money even when you aren't here."
Helen looked at the gray furniture, the numbered doors, and the cards telling strangers when to leave.
They spoke about her absence as if she had chosen it. As if she had gone on vacation instead of spending four months helping Diane stand, bathe, and take her medication.
"You could have asked me."
Megan finally looked at her.
"You would have said no."
There it was.
They had not forgotten to ask. They had not misunderstood what Helen wanted. They had known—and decided her answer did not matter.
Richard stepped in before Megan had to say anything else.
"We wanted you to see how well it worked before you rejected it."
Helen looked from her husband to her daughter.
Neither of them seemed ashamed. They were only annoyed that she had returned before agreeing with them.
"Why didn't either of you tell me?"
Megan folded her arms.
"Because you make things emotional."
The words struck harder than Helen expected.
She had fed Megan through fevers, paid bills her daughter could not afford, and spent four months helping Diane recover. Caring for them was expected. Feeling hurt by them was called emotional.
Richard checked his watch.
"You're tired. Go lie down. We'll discuss this when you're calmer."
Helen turned toward the stairs.
Her sewing room had a number on the door. The guest room had one too. A stranger's body had left an impression in the bed that used to be hers.
"Where?"
Richard frowned.
Helen's voice rose before she could stop it.
"Which room in my house is mine?"
The words cracked through the living room.
Megan flinched. Richard stopped looking at his watch.
Neither of them answered.
The silence told Helen more than another explanation could have.
Her anger did not disappear. It sank, cold and heavy, beneath her ribs.
"Where are my things?"
Richard recovered first.
"In a self-storage unit across town."
"All of them?"
"We needed the closets clear," Megan said. "We packed everything."
Richard smoothed the folded bathrobe over his arm.
"The unit costs less for a month than the master suite earns in two nights. It made sense."
Helen looked from her husband to her daughter.
Once again, neither of them said they were sorry.
Megan gave her a small, impatient nod.
"Your clothes, your boxes, everything you care about—it's all safe."