Finally, she said the voicemail should be preserved, and that she would consider the issue alongside the other evidence and testimony.
Then she called a fifteen-minute recess.
I leaned toward Dad before the judge was even out of the room.
“You knew he might do something?”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No,” he said again. “I thought he’d leave the place dirty. Or take something petty. The lightbulbs. The shower curtain. That kind of thing. I didn’t think he’d destroy things.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
Ezoic
“Because I didn’t want you going there before his deadline.”
Ezoic
I stopped.
He looked at me. His eyes were very tired.
“If I’d told you Brian said you’d regret it,” he said, “what would you have done?”
I knew the answer.
I would have driven straight over there and confronted him. That same day. I would have walked right up to that red front door and pounded on it and demanded to know what he meant.
