Page 64 of The Forbidden Center

“That is not the same thing.”

“It is to me.”

I put the printed estimate beside the floor plan.

She reads the total. Her face changes less than mine did.

“Can we still do it?”

“I do not know.”

“Are you saying yes?”

“No. It is everything I have.”

Her eyes lift to mine.

“There is not another savings account I can open if this costs more.”

“I know.”

“I have enough for the deposit and the fees. I do not know yet if there is enough for the house and everything it needs.”

She rubs the side of her thumb over the green desk.

“What if somebody else buys it first?”

“Yes.”

“That would be bad.”

“Yes.”

“You say yes like it isn’t happening to you.”

I turn the heat down before the chicken burns.

“It is happening to me.”

She waits.

I am trying not to teach my daughter that love is information delivered after the decision has already been made.

“When I know, you will know,” I say. “Before I sign anything. Before I decide anything.”

She studies my face, then nods once.

I put the counselor’s page beside the floor plan.

“There is something else.”

Her shoulders rise immediately.

“No one is in trouble.”

They come down a fraction.

“I saw Ms. Ruiz today.”