It had passed from a son who would have given it gladly to parents who desperately needed it, and been stolen in the two feet of space between them by a man who wanted it least of the three and took it anyway.
But there was something underneath the theft, and it was worse.
“Eighteen months ago,” Daniela said, and Ezra could hear her choosing her words, “he used that same fraudulent authorization to take out a high-interest loan.
And he pledged your parents’ house as collateral.” She looked up.
“The loan is badly past due.
If it isn’t paid, they’ll foreclose.