“What do you want, Logan?”
“I want to understand the notices.”
“They’re straightforward.”
“The bank says I have to replace collateral on the credit line.”
“Yes.”
“You were the collateral?”
“My investment account was.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You signed the documents.”
“I signed a lot of documents.”
“You signed the ones that allowed the account to be pledged.”
He was silent again.
I could picture him standing in the kitchen, one hand pressed against the counter.
He had done that since he was a boy whenever he was trying to solve a problem he didn’t want to admit was too big for him.
“Why would you do this now?” he asked.
“Because I’m no longer living in your house.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It explains everything.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
His voice sharpened.
“You helped us for years.
You never complained.
You never said you wanted any of it back.”
