She shook her head harder. “We tried… but there wasn’t space.”
Sam squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to hide this. We’ll figure it out together.”
I nodded. “You’re not alone, Lizie. We’re in this now.”
She hesitated, looking at her cracked phone. “Should I call my dad? He’ll be mad.”
“Let me talk to him,” I said. “We just want to help.”
She called. We waited. I made coffee, Dan put dishes away. My stomach churned.
The doorbell rang. Lizie’s father stepped inside, exhaustion written all over him. Oil stains marked his jeans, dark circles under his eyes, but he still tried to smile.
“Thanks for feeding my daughter,” he said, shaking Dan’s hand. “I’m Paul. Sorry for the trouble.”
I shook my head. “I’m Helena. This hasn’t been trouble. But Lizie’s carrying too much.”
He looked at the bills, jaw tightening. “She shouldn’t have brought that here.” Then his face fell. “I thought I could fix it… if I worked more.”
