That softened me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“For making excuses for her.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand.
I’d locked myself out while Eliza was with me.
“You’re trying to help your sister.”
“Not if helping her means letting her make you uncomfortable in your own house.”
He didn’t answer, but the look he gave me stayed with me.
A few weeks earlier, I’d locked myself out while Eliza was with me. I showed her the magnetic box beneath the back steps where we kept the emergency key.
The key had a strip of blue tape wrapped around the top so we could tell it apart from the others.
A few days later, Andrew asked if I’d moved the emergency key.
At the time, showing her felt completely ordinary.
A few days later, Andrew asked if I’d moved the emergency key.
I hadn’t.
“Maybe it fell out,” I said.
He didn’t look convinced, so he changed the lock.
Neither of us sounded like we believed that.
“It’s probably overkill,” he said as he tightened the last screw.
“Probably.”
Neither of us sounded like we believed that.
I thought that was the end of it.
A week later, we hosted a family dinner.
