Page 75 of Ethan

“Naomi. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure either.” Naomi stepped inside.

The room was neat; her mother’s things arranged with a tidiness that spoke of someone who’d been waiting. She’d prepared for this.

They sat across from each other, her mother on the edge of the bed, Naomi in the chair by the window, and talked. Really talked, for the first time in Naomi’s life.

Her mother told her about being seventeen and terrified, about a boyfriend who’d disappeared the moment she’d told him, about feeling like she had no choice. She cried twice and Naomi believed her, which was the dangerous part. She believed her and felt something loosen in her chest that she hadn’t known was wound that tight.

She started to think that maybe Ethan had been right.

Maybe this could be something.

“My mother’s house,” her mother said eventually. “I always wondered what happened to it after she passed.”

Something shifted in the room that Naomi felt before she understood it.

“I finally sold it after two years,” she said carefully.

Her mother looked at her. “You sold it?”

“It was old and needed work I couldn’t afford. I used what I got from the sale to move here and start over.”

Her mother was quiet for a moment. “How much did you get for it?”

Naomi looked at her. “Why?”

“I just—” Her mother folded her hands in her lap. “Your grandmother and I had an agreement. Years ago. That if she ever sold the house or if anything happened to it, I was to receive a portion.”

The loosening in Naomi’s chest stopped completely.

“There was no agreement,” Naomi said.

“There was. We discussed it when you were young. Before things got—” Her mother waved a hand. “Complicated.”

“Nothing was left to me in her will except the house and everything in it, which wasn’t much,” Naomi said slowly. “There was no mention of you. There was no agreement.”

“I’m not saying it was written down.” Her mother’s voice had shifted, just slightly, into something more careful. “But we had an understanding.”

Naomi stood up.

“You came here for money,” she said. “That’s why you came.”

“No.” Her mother stood too. “I came because I wanted to see you. I meant everything I said yesterday. But I also think that what was your grandmother’s should be shared between—”

“She left you nothing because you left me.” Naomi’s voice was very quiet. “She didn’t owe you anything. Neither do I.”

“Naomi—”

“The house sold for forty-two thousand dollars. That’s all I could get for it because it was so rundown.” She picked up her bag. “I used most of the money to buy a decent vehicle and to move here and start my life. The rest is in my savings account, which isn’t much. There’s nothing to share.” She looked at her mother. “And even if there was, you wouldn’t get a penny of it.”

Her mother’s expression shifted into something harder. “I don’t believe the house only sold for forty-two thousand.”

“Then don’t believe it.” Naomi walked to the door and opened it. “Goodbye, Linda.”

She walked out into the evening, pulled the door closed behind her and stood there for a second breathing the warm air.

Then she got in her truck and drove back to the ranch.