The driver’s side door flung open, slamming against its hinge with a metallic clang.

Marcus stepped out first, his work boots crunching hard against the stone.

He didn’t look like the confident contractor who usually walked into my kitchen to raid the refrigerator.

His face was flushed red, his flannel shirt untucked, and his hands were shaking as he shoved them into his pockets.

From the passenger side, Evelyn climbed down, her knees stiff as she gripped the doorframe.

She wore her expensive wool coat, the one I bought her for her sixty-fifth birthday.

“Daniel!” Marcus shouted, his voice carrying across the yard before he even reached the porch steps.

Daniel stepped past Harris, his face pale as he looked at his brother.

“Marcus, wait,” Daniel said, his voice thin.

“What the hell is going on, Daniel?” Marcus demanded, stopping at the bottom of the steps.

He didn’t even look at me, his eyes locked entirely on his brother.

“My bank called me twenty minutes ago,” Marcus said, his chest heaving. “The business line of credit is gone.”