“We’re staying in the temporary officers’ quarters on base until my foot heals and the apartment lease is signed,” I said.

“You have no right to cut my grandson off from this family,” Linda said, her voice dropping to a tense, formal whisper.

“I have rights as his grandmother in this county.”

I met her sharp stare without shifting my weight off my left foot.

“You can take that up with our attorney when we settle the car title arbitration next month,” I said.

Linda’s eyes widened slightly, her crossed arms locking tighter against her ribs.