“I went to the house,” he said. “The caterers were already there. She had the contract on the dining table.”

He took a step closer to me.

“I told her I wasn’t signing it,” he said. “I told her I was going to find my own way.”

“What did she do?” I asked.

“She threw a wine glass at the wall,” Derek said, his voice shaking. “She told me to leave and never come back.”

He looked down at his shoes, then back up at me.

“I don’t have a place to stay, Sarah,” he said. “And I don’t have a job.”

“You can stay with me,” I said immediately.

“I don’t want a handout,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I want to work. I want to learn.”

He looked at the Solar Reach logo on the glass behind me.

“Let me start at the bottom,” he said. “An internship. Sweeping floors, sorting files, whatever you have. I just want to learn how to build something real.”

Before I could answer, my phone in my pocket began to vibrate.

It was a call from our mother’s home number.