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The outside of the house was already shrouded in scaffolding to protect neighboring properties and keep people from being too nosy. From the inside, I could see a thick galvanized steel cross-brace cutting across my kitchen window. It looked like the bars of a prison. I’d moved my things to a hotel in town and was doing one final walkthrough before this place turned to kindling.
This afternoon, the contractor would drop off some machinery. And bright and early tomorrow morning, as soon as the noise ordinances permitted, the building would be coming down.
It needed to happen.
After all, my hands were tied. I couldn’t save Radcliffe House Apartments for Charlie. And since she’d already moved out, it was safe to assume that she’d given up the fight. And she’d given me up in the process.
The day she’d moved out, I’d heard noises upstairs after being out all day. There was a moment when I thought she was back. I’d had this vain, foolish hope that maybe what was broken between us could be fixed.
I’d knocked and pounded and called out, but she hadn’t answered. Then I tried the doorknob. Open.
The feeling that went through me when I took in the empty apartment… It was hard to describe what that did to me. My fingertips went cold, and a hollowness echoed in the pit of my stomach. I felt heavy and light at once.
The floors had creaked as I paced the length of the attic, eyes tracing the lines of the mansard roof she loved so much, fingers trailing over the rolled edges of the tub. I’d stared at the spot on the wall where the ink from her pen had dried. Bloodred, dripping down the paint like the house itself had a mortal wound.
Then my assistant in Arlington had informed me that she’d taken the cash. I walked to the kitchen counter and saw her keys there, right where that daisy-patterned plate had fallen and shattered.
She was gone. Really gone.
It had been what I’d wanted. For us both to move on, for me to get out of this town for good.
I’d made my choice.
Radcliffe House was coming down.
“Oh, wow.” Mom let out a sigh that I couldn’t quite read.
“What does that mean?” My voice was a whip-crack. I couldn’t deal with another person telling me I was making a mistake. Couldn’t deal with my mother, of all people, pushing back on this decision.
“It just sort of feels like once that house is gone, then that means my mother really is gone too. That was a special place for her.”
“Why do you care?” My voice was harsh. “After what she did to us, why does it matter?”
A sigh ruffled through the phone. “She was still my mother.”
I glared at the old walls around me. “She blamed you for the fire. She wanted us to kowtow to her. She never spoke to you again after we left, for God’s sake!”
“She was a stubborn old bat, that’s for sure.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” I shoved a hand through my hair. “I thought you’d be grateful that I’m tearing it down.”
There was a pause. I leaned against the kitchen table and pinched the bridge of my nose. A headache bloomed behind my eyes.
“Sebastian?”
I grunted.
“Are you tearing that old house down for my sake?” Her voice was too gentle.
I wanted to cry. My eyes stung as I stared at the scarred floorboards between my feet.
When I didn’t answer, my mother asked, “Honey, are you all right?” Why did moms always know when something was up, even when you did your best to hide it? It was like some kind of superpower.
“Yeah, fine.” I wasn’t fine. But my thirty days were up. The properties were officially mine. And all I wanted to do was get this over with so I could go back to my life in Arlington, assume my new role as head of The Bach Company, and try to forget about all of it. Forget about the woman who hadn’t stopped invading my thoughts every waking moment of my life since she walked away.
That’s what I wanted to do. Walk away. It was the only way to put all of this behind me. Take the money and finally make my mother whole.
“You sure?” Mom pushed.
