“That’s why I took Dad’s things.”
Sarah looked toward the lighter.
Understanding spread across her face.
“You went to pawn shops?”
Toby nodded.
“Then the Anchor.”
Sarah looked horrified.
“You went where?”
“I needed people with money.”
Despite everything, Bones made a strange choking sound that might have been a laugh.
Silas shot him a look.
Bones immediately looked serious.
Sarah covered her face.
“Toby, you could have been killed.”
Silas looked around the room.
“No.”
Sarah lowered her hands.
“Not there.”
She stared at him.
Silas continued:
“Not after they saw that lighter.”
He stood.
Toby looked up.
Silas picked up the silver Zippo.
For a moment, Sarah seemed afraid he would take it.
Instead, Silas walked toward Toby.
He held out the lighter.
“This belongs to you.”
Toby stared.
“But you said it was your brother’s.”
“Exactly.”
Toby slowly accepted it.
Silas folded the boy’s fingers around the metal.
“It belongs to Elias Cole’s son.”
Sarah began crying again.
Silas turned toward Bones.
“Get our attorney.”
Bones blinked.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Silas pointed toward the bills.
“I want somebody at the bank Monday morning.”
Sarah immediately protested.
“No.”
Silas looked at her.
“I am not asking.”
“You cannot buy us.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“We don’t want your money.”
Toby looked between them.
Silas said quietly:
“Your son walked four miles through Bakersfield heat to sell his dead father’s belongings because he thought you were losing the house.”
Sarah flinched.
Silas continued:
“This stopped being about pride before I walked through the door.”
“I can figure something out.”
“How?”
Sarah said nothing.
“Can you work?”
Her jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Can Toby?”
She looked horrified.
“Of course not.”
“Then let people help.”
Sarah’s eyes flashed.
“People like you?”
Silas accepted the insult.
“If necessary.”
She stared.
Silas looked at Toby.
“I lost my brother fifteen years ago.”
Then back at Sarah.
“I’m not going to discover his son today and let a bank put him on the street next week.”
Sarah’s voice cracked.
“You don’t owe us.”
Silas became quiet.
“You’re wrong.”
She shook her head.
Silas touched the edge of his vest.
“For fifteen years I told myself Elias owed me an explanation.”
He glanced toward Toby.
“Maybe I owed him one too.”
“What?”
“The right to leave.”
Bones stared at him.
Silas almost never questioned the club aloud.
He continued:
“I don’t know whether I could have given him that then.”
His voice lowered.
“But I can give his son something now.”