Eli stared at him, stunned more by the distinction than by the refusal. Then his eyes moved to a photograph on the wall showing Caleb laughing with his arm around Rhett's shoulders. "I didn't come here to replace him," he said. "I came because I couldn't stand nobody knowing what happened to him."
Rhett held his gaze. "Then we'll make sure people know. But you're going to be here to see what happens afterward."
The conversation left both of them shaken. Rhett walked outside afterward and found Deak checking tire pressures beneath the overhang. It was a task Deak could have left until morning, but his hands needed work just as Rhett's did. "I think the boy hates me," Rhett said.
Deak shook his head without looking up. "He hates that you made staying alive sound harder than being brave. Give him a minute."
"Caleb would've been furious with me for letting him spend eight months alone," Rhett replied. Deak straightened. "Caleb would've been furious with all of us. He also would've been the first to ask what we're doing next instead of letting regret eat the time we still have."
He looked toward the clubhouse door. "And for what it's worth, the kid's already checking where you are whenever you leave the room. People don't do that with somebody they hate."
Mara spent the afternoon coordinating practical arrangements the others might have overlooked. A trusted attorney helped contact child-protection authorities outside the compromised county system and arrange an emergency welfare assessment that did not require Eli to be transported away without explanation. A clinician with experience supporting children after exploitation and homelessness agreed to be available, and a volunteer brought properly sized clothes without turning the visit into a charity performance. Mara also made certain the club's guest room had clean bedding, a lock Eli could operate from inside, and enough food available that he would not have to ask.
When Eli learned that adults were discussing his housing, he became angry. "You said you wouldn't send me away," he told Rhett. Rhett put down the phone immediately. "I said we'd find a safe, lawful way to handle your situation. Your mother is alive, and she should have a say in where you live when she's safe. Until then, we're making sure nobody can treat you like a missing piece of paperwork."
"People already did," Eli said. His voice was flat in a way that made the sentence more painful. Rhett nodded. "I know. That's why we're documenting who you are, where you've been, and what you want. You're not disappearing from a record again because somebody couldn't be bothered to ask."
The boy considered that for a while. Then he gave Mara the name of the shelter counselor who had last helped him, a woman called Mrs. Reed who knew he had been looking for information about his father. Mara phoned her and heard relief so immediate that it briefly broke the counselor's professional composure. Mrs. Reed confirmed that Eli had been difficult to keep in one place but had always returned library books, helped smaller children with homework, and disappeared whenever he feared authorities would contact people he did not trust.