Alvin listened, quietly, and let him finish.

Then he laid the hundred-and-seventy-thousand-dollar land-sale document flat on the workbench between them.

Derek stopped talking.

“Dad sold his dream land to keep you out of bankruptcy, Derek,” Alvin said, his voice deadly quiet.

“The land he’d planned to retire on.

And you rewarded him by forcing him to sleep in a storage shed behind his own house.” Derek sank onto a wooden stool and buried his face in his hands.

“I didn’t know about the shed,” he said.