"I stay in town," he said. "I live with Denise for now. I go to school and see Grandpa. Rex might be approved later, but he has to finish the checks. And I can still come to the garage when everyone's okay with it."
"That's right," Clara said.
Brian looked at Denise. "Do the cats really open the cupboards?"
"Unfortunately," she answered. "We're hoping you'll be able to help us outsmart them."
He smiled then, a small uncertain smile that widened when Millie told him she would help arrange his transportation so the visits did not depend on whoever happened to be free. The fear was not gone. He still wanted his grandfather's house and still wanted Rex's spare room more than Denise's unfamiliar home. But the choice before him was no longer between Thunderfork and exile, and he had been invited to take part in the planning instead of merely being informed of the result.
That evening Brian went home with Denise. She showed him the bedroom he would use, a comfortable room with pale blue walls, a bookshelf, and a desk beneath a window. She had not decorated it with childish objects or made assumptions about what thirteen-year-old boys liked. The bed had clean sheets, and there was a lamp he could adjust for reading without waking anyone.
Pepper watched him suspiciously from the doorway. Captain investigated his backpack as soon as he set it down, then walked away with the confident air of a creature who had completed a thorough inspection. Brian laughed when Denise apologized for the behavior. He placed his grandfather's notebook on the desk and the photograph of Sarah beside the lamp, making the room feel a fraction less foreign.
At dinner Denise asked whether he wanted to talk about the day. He said not yet, and she accepted the answer without asking again. Later she showed him how to call Rex, how to reach Clara if something worried him, and where to find a spare blanket. It was not the home he had imagined, but it was calm, safe, and free of demands that he demonstrate his worth.
Before bed, he called Rex. "I got here," he said.
"Good. How's the place?"
"Nice. The cats are criminals."
Rex laughed. "Then you'll fit right in."
Brian was quiet for a moment. "Are you still going to try?"
"Yes," Rex said. "I'm doing the paperwork and getting the room ready. The people responsible for the decision will take the time they need, and we'll respect that. But I haven't changed my mind."
"Okay." Brian held the phone more tightly. "I don't know why you want to do all this."
"Because Jaime was family to me once, and because you're Brian. That ought to be enough."
After they hung up, Brian lay in the strange bed listening to Captain scratch softly at the door. He thought about the garage, the old motorcycle, the photograph of his mother, and the way Butcher had admitted his mistake. For the first time since the stroke he allowed himself to consider a future that did not depend on his grandfather recovering immediately. The thought made him feel disloyal until he imagined James telling him to stop being foolish and go to sleep.