But Clay noticed.
Before either man could say another word, a woman's voice came faintly from inside.
"Danny?"
The boy's entire body jerked.
"Mom!"
Clay stepped onto the porch.
Thomas grabbed his arm.
Clay turned.
He didn't swing.
He didn't threaten.
He simply looked down at Thomas's hand.
"Take your hand off me."
Something in Clay's voice made Thomas release him.
Clay entered the house.
The interior smelled faintly of old wood and lavender.
Family photographs covered the hallway walls.
Clay moved quickly past them, following the sound of crying toward the back of the house.
"Megan?"
Thomas shouted from behind him.
"Don't talk to him!"
That confirmed something else.
Clay continued.
He found the woman in a bathroom beside the downstairs bedroom.
She sat against the cabinet, arms wrapped around herself, trembling uncontrollably.
"Megan?"
Her head snapped up.
Fear crossed her face when she saw Clay.
"It's okay."
Clay immediately stopped several feet away.
"I'm not with him."
She stared.
"Danny sent me."
Everything in her face collapsed.
"My son?"
"He's outside. He's okay."
Megan covered her mouth as a sob escaped.
"Thank God."
Clay crouched rather than approaching.
"Can you stand?"
She nodded uncertainly.
Clay offered his hand.
"Easy. I got you."
Megan hesitated before taking it.
Her fingers were ice cold.
Clay helped her stand slowly, keeping enough distance that she never felt trapped.
"What happened?"
"He wants the house."
Clay frowned.
"What?"
"Thomas."
Her breathing remained uneven.
"He's Arthur's brother."
"Your husband?"
"My late husband."
She wiped tears from her face.
"He died fourteen months ago."
Clay looked toward the hallway.
"And Thomas thinks the house belongs to him?"
"He doesn't think it does."
Megan's voice changed.
"He knows it doesn't."
That distinction mattered.
"What exactly is going on?"
Before Megan could answer, Thomas appeared in the doorway.
"Don't tell him anything."
Clay turned.
Thomas pointed toward the front door.
"Get out."
Megan stepped behind Clay.
Clay noticed it.
So did Thomas.
"This is family business," Thomas snapped.
Clay remained calm.
"Your nephew was kneeling beside the road begging strangers to help his mother."
Thomas's jaw tightened.
"Because she's filled his head with nonsense."
"Thomas—"
"Shut up, Megan."
Clay's expression went cold.
"Don't talk to her like that."
Thomas laughed.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
Clay said nothing.
He didn't need to.
The silence lasted several seconds.
Thomas finally looked away.
"Fine."
He backed toward the hallway.
"You all want to make this dramatic? Let's do it outside."
Danny ran toward his mother the moment Megan emerged from the house.
"Mom!"
Megan dropped to her knees.
Danny crashed into her arms.
For several seconds neither spoke.
They simply held each other.
Megan buried her face in her son's hair while Danny clung to her as if letting go might make her disappear.
Clay stood a few feet away.
Something about the scene stirred an old memory he didn't want.
His mother.
A hospital hallway.
His father arguing with someone over the telephone while Clay, sixteen years old and terrified, sat alone beneath fluorescent lights.
He pushed the memory away.
Thomas walked onto the porch carrying a thick envelope.
His confidence had returned.
"You finished playing hero?"
Clay turned.
Thomas held up the envelope.
"This woman has been legally ordered to leave."
Megan stood.
"That's not true."
"Really?"