The smell of expensive cedar and damp winter wool moved with him.

“I bought that building twelve years ago,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

He looked back down at the pink notice.

“The roof leaks,” Ruby said suddenly.

I tried to quiet her, pressing my hand against her shoulder.

“Ruby, shh,” I whispered.

“It does,” she insisted, looking up at Nathaniel.

“The ceiling in my bedroom has a big brown spot that drips when it rains.”

Nathaniel’s face went pale.

“The heat does not work in the winter either,” she added, her small voice confident.

He stared at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and growing anger.

“That building is supposed to be fully funded,” he said.

He looked at me, his gray eyes searching my face.

“The property manager is Arthur Dunleavy,” I said.

“Dunleavy,” Nathaniel repeated, his voice hardening.

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding under his tailored suit jacket.

“He tells us the owner does not care,” I said.

“He says the owner wants us out so he can sell the land.”

Nathaniel’s jaw clenched so hard I saw a muscle twitch.