And the money was getting bad.
There was a loan she’d taken, secured against documents she didn’t have full rights to sign. The lender, a man named Garrett who wore too much cologne and smiled with his eyes closed, had started calling twice a day.
Then he started coming by.
Then one Thursday morning, he showed up with a man in a suit.
Renee opened the door and immediately tried to close it again.
The man in the suit held up a document.
“Ma’am, the county has an interest in this property. We’re going to need you to step outside.”
By the time Jade and Corey drove down Clover Ridge Lane that afternoon, it was almost over.
They weren’t there for any of it.
They were actually there to drop off a box of Jade’s things she’d remembered leaving in the hall closet. A box her neighbor Miss Tanya had called her about. The one who had a spare key.
They turned onto the street and saw the cars, the suits, the papers, the neighbors standing on their porches watching.
And in the middle of it, Renee.
Smaller than she remembered.
Standing in the driveway with her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes moving from face to face, finding no one who was going to step in.
Corey pulled over. They sat in the car.
Jade watched Renee for a long time.
She watched her turn finally and see the car.
See Jade’s face in the passenger window.
Renee walked over.
She walked like it cost her something. Her chin was up, but her hands were shaking.
Jade got out of the car.
They stood 3 ft apart on the sidewalk they used to share.
“Jade.”
Renee’s voice had a crack in it.
“I need help. I don’t have anyone.”
“You had me,” Jade said.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just clear.
Renee’s chin dropped slightly.
“I know.”
“You gave me away,” Jade said. “To a stranger. On the porch. Because you decided I wasn’t worth keeping.”
Renee was crying now. Small, tight tears. The kind that come when someone realizes they’ve lost something they thought was disposable.
Jade let the silence sit.
