“The building is losing money, Nathaniel.”

“We have to maintain standards.”

Nathaniel slowly reached down and opened the drawer of his mahogany desk.

He pulled out a second folder, much thinner than the first.

“I looked at the Brindlewood ledger this morning,” Nathaniel said.

“The real ledger, not the one you submit to the board.”

Arthur’s eyes darted toward the window.

The city lights were just starting to blink on in the twilight.

“There must be a misunderstanding,” Arthur said.

“A bookkeeping error.”

“You have been the property manager for twelve years, Arthur,” Nathaniel said.

“Ever since my father passed away.”

“I trusted you to take care of the people in those buildings.”

“I did,” Arthur insisted, his voice rising a fraction.

“I kept the roofs patched.”

“I kept the boilers running.”

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to drag him into the study and show him the black mold in our bathroom.

I wanted him to see the rusted pipes that leaked rusty water onto Ruby’s bedroom floor every winter.

But I stayed quiet.

I kept my hand over Ruby’s mouth to keep her from making a sound.