Not I know you will.
Okay.
A door held open rather than a guarantee about what was beyond it.
Darla looked at Raina.
“What do we do?”
“We wait for the report, and while we wait, we build evidence that this family is supported.
Appointments kept. School attendance. The evaluation completed. Food in the house. You present and participating. Eli not carrying everything alone.”
Darla nodded slowly.
“Those men fixed my house.”
“Yes.”
“They don’t know me.”
“They knew Caleb.”
Darla’s face tightened.
Raina corrected herself.
“And they know Eli.”
Eli’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
The message contained four words and a question mark.
Does she know yet?
He read it twice.
Raina saw his expression.
“Show me.”
He handed her the phone.
Her face changed instantly.
Not concern.
Recognition.
“What does that mean?” Darla asked.
Raina was already pulling out her own phone.
“Who is that?”
Raina stepped into the hallway and dialed.
Eli heard fragments.
“Hargrove.”
A pause.
“How long have you known?”
Another pause.
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Longer silence.
Then Raina’s voice dropped lower.
“Does she know it was us?”
Eli felt the floor beneath him change without moving.
Does she know yet?
Does she know it was us?
The person Caleb had died protecting.
The person who had been safe for three years.
He looked at Darla.
His mother sat at the kitchen table, both hands around coffee. The woman who had collapsed after Caleb disappeared. The woman whose grief had always seemed too large for abandonment, too sealed, too complete.
His mind rearranged facts faster than he could stop it.
Raina returned.
Eli stood.
“My mother knew.”
Raina became very still.
“She knew he wasn’t coming back.”
“Eli—”
“She knew what happened.”