Her name.
The distinction changed the way he held his shoulders.
“No. You’re going to listen.”
Her voice sharpened loudly enough that fragments reached me.
Ungrateful.
Manipulated.
Money.
Noah closed his eye.
I put my hand at the base of his neck.
He drew a careful breath.
“Stop.”
She continued.
“No,” he said, louder but still controlled. “I told you to stop.”
The voice on the other end rose.
“You came to my workplace after ignoring me for years,” Noah said. “You tried to use my injury to argue that I couldn’t make my own decisions. Then you asked for money.”
Another barrage.
He moved the receiver away from his ear until she quieted.
“I ended up in the hospital after what you did.”
She denied it.
“I don’t care what story you’ve chosen.”
His fingers began to shake.
I covered his free hand with mine.
“You are not welcome at the yard. You are not welcome in my home. You will not question Leah about me, and you will not send messages through anyone else.”
Diane’s voice became shrill.
Noah looked at me.
His gaze was exhausted.
Clear.
Certain.
“I am not an investment you get to collect on.”
He listened.
