Chapter 2 - The Name I Didn't Recognize
I didn't open the door.
I propped myself up against the headboard, ribs stabbing with every breath, and watched the two of them on a four-inch screen.
Ethan's face was blotchy red. Marlene kept stabbing her finger at the lens like the camera was me, like a gesture could reach through the glass and put me back in my place.
I wasn't scared. That surprised me a little. I felt almost calm.
The night before, once their car was gone, I'd called my sister, Meghan. Then a 24-hour locksmith. Then the attorney a coworker had recommended to me years ago, whose card I'd kept in a drawer and hoped I'd never use.
By one in the morning, every lock in the house was new.
By the time the sun came up, I'd signed the first page of the rest of my life.
On the screen, Ethan finally stopped rattling the handle and put his mouth close to the speaker.
"Open the door," he said. "We need to talk. Now."
"There's nothing to talk about," I said into the intercom. "Call my lawyer."
Marlene elbowed him aside.
"You ungrateful little girl. After everything this family has done for you, you lock my son out of his own home?" Her voice climbed. "He has rights. This is his house."
I actually smiled.
"Pull the deed," I said. "It isn't."
Nothing came back for a long moment.
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Then I heard Marlene lean toward Ethan and say something low and fast. I only caught a few words. One of them was a name — a woman's name — that meant nothing to me.
And on the screen, Ethan went absolutely still.
