Diane’s face changed.
“What?”
“I want to leave tonight.”
She glanced at Ethan, expecting him to correct me.
He didn’t.
Dad nodded once.
“Then you and Noah have somewhere to stay.
No conditions.”
I felt my throat tighten.
Diane folded her arms.
“Of course.
Daddy rescues her, and suddenly she’s independent.”
Dad’s gaze sharpened.
“No.
Her independence is why she has been making that vehicle payment while carrying an unemployed husband and raising a baby.
Offering my daughter a safe place to sleep doesn’t erase what she’s done for herself.”
Ethan flinched.
Dad noticed.
“And you,” he said quietly.
Ethan straightened.
“Sir—”
“Don’t call me sir.
Answer one question.
Is that vehicle Camila’s?”
Diane interrupted immediately.
“His name is on the registration.”
Dad never looked away from Ethan.
“I asked him.”
For the first time all evening, Diane stopped talking.
Ethan looked at the SUV.
Then at me.
“We bought it for Camila after Noah was born,” he said.
“She chose it.
She’s made every payment since I lost my job.”
Dad nodded.
“So when your mother took the key and told your wife to walk, what did you do?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Nothing.”
“Why?”
Diane stepped forward.
“He doesn’t owe you an interrogation.”
Ethan lifted a hand toward her.
“Mom.
Stop.”
Those two words seemed to shock her more than anything Dad had said.
He looked at me.
“I didn’t want another fight,” he admitted.
My eyes burned.
“So you let me have it instead.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
“Yes.”
It wasn’t an apology yet.
But it was the first honest sentence he’d given me about any of this.
Diane shook her head.
“This is ridiculous.
She’s turning everyone against me over a car key.”
