I watched her knuckles whiten.
Dad noticed too.
“Margaret,” he said, “did you know about this?”
She opened her mouth, but Connor interrupted.
“Why are we acting like someone committed a crime? I was trying to help.”
The room seemed to contract around him.
Dad’s face went still.
“You did this?”
Connor rubbed his palms on his jeans.
“Not like she’s making it sound.”
Marisol had not accused him of anything.
She simply stood beside the table with the patient expression of someone trained to let people expose themselves.
Connor pointed at me.
“Olivia stopped paying without warning.
Somebody had to keep the house running.”
“I stopped paying yesterday,” I said.
“The loan request was submitted eleven days ago.”
His mouth closed.
Dad looked at Mom again.
She sank into her chair.
“It was supposed to be temporary,” she said.
Aunt Denise whispered her name.
Mom ignored her.
“Connor had an opportunity.
A business opportunity.
He needed money quickly, and the bank would not approve him because he has not had steady employment.”
Connor’s face tightened.
“You don’t have to explain it like that.”
“How should she explain it?” I asked.
“That you used Dad’s identity?”
“I did not steal his identity.”
“You submitted a loan in his name.”
“For this house,” Connor snapped.
“For this family.”
Dad turned the first page over.
“What business?”
Connor glanced at Mom.
That small movement answered the question before either of them spoke.
Mom had known everything.
Connor finally said, “Online resale.”
“What does that mean?” Dad asked.
“Electronics.
Limited releases.
Gaming equipment.
You buy inventory before prices rise and sell it later.”
I thought of the boxes stacked in the basement whenever I visited.
Connor had claimed they belonged to friends.
Mom had told Dad not to worry because Connor was storing them temporarily.
“How much have you already spent?” I asked.
“That is none of your business.”
“It became my business when I paid the electricity powering your basement warehouse.”
His chair scraped back again.
“You love saying that, don’t you? You paid some bills, so now you think you own everyone.”
I opened the black folder and removed another set of pages.
“No.
