“The deed is no longer in his name,” Lauren said.
The radiator clanked loudly, a sharp metallic ring that made both women flinch.
“How could he do this?” Ruth asked, her voice cracking slightly. “Why did you not call us the moment this started?”
Lauren looked down at her hands, her pride stinging under the weight of the older woman’s gaze.
“Because he is your son,” Lauren said. “And I did not think you would believe me.”
Ruth looked back down at the folder, her fingers tracing the edge of the printed bank statement.
The kitchen was entirely still, save for the slow, rhythmic sound of the leaky tap.
At six o’clock, Lauren walked out of the kitchen to find Adam sitting on the worn carpet by the window. The radiator clanked, a dry metallic rattle that rose from the floorboards every hour like clockwork. The draft from the window was cold enough to make her skin prickle beneath her gray wool sweater. He was hunched over, his shoulders tense under his blue hooded sweatshirt.
