“That answer was lawyer-shaped.”
Wade sighed.
“Some members have records.”
“So do accountants.”
“We run charity rides.”
“Toy drives.”
“Veteran transport.”
“Doesn’t make everybody a saint.”
“Name says otherwise.”
Wade looked at her.
She smiled.
He decided he liked her less.
Then she asked the question that mattered.
“Do you want guardianship?”
Wade stared at the floor.
“No.”
Denise did not react.
He looked up.
“That bothers you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because most people in shock who immediately say they want to raise an unrelated grieving child worry me more.”
Wade blinked.
Denise continued.
“You said no.”
“But you stayed.”
“That difference interests me.”
He looked toward Lily’s room.
“I don’t know how.”
“Nobody does.”
“I’m fifty-four.”
“Children do not expire if guardians are over forty.”
“I live alone.”
“That can change.”
“I ride motorcycles.”
“So?”
“People die on motorcycles.”
“People die in minivans.”
Wade looked at her sharply.
Denise held his gaze.
“You are trying to convert fear into disqualification.”
Wade said nothing.
She continued.
“I’m not approving anything today.”
“Your home needs inspection.”
“Background checks.”
“References.”
“Court review.”
“Lily’s preference matters but does not decide everything.”
“Good.”
Wade nodded.
“Find her someone better.”
Denise closed her notebook.
“You keep saying better.”
“Yes.”
“Define it.”
Wade opened his mouth.
Nothing.
Denise stood.
“Think about that.”
Lily was discharged on the fourth afternoon.
Temporary placement remained unresolved.
Aaron’s guardianship designation carried legal weight, but child services still needed a safe immediate plan.
Denise inspected Wade’s house that morning.
She arrived at 8:00.
Wade had cleaned for six hours.
The house smelled aggressively like lemon disinfectant.
Denise entered.
Looked around.
“Did someone die in here?”
Wade stared.
“Bad phrasing.”
She winced.
“Fair.”
The house was modest.
Two-bedroom bungalow behind the garage property.
One bedroom belonged to Wade.
The second had become storage after Maya died.
He had not opened the closet in years.
Before Denise arrived, he cleared it.
Boxes went into the garage.
The room contained a bed.
Desk.
Dresser.
No child things.
Denise opened the closet.
Empty.
“Where’s everything?”
“Garage.”
“You cleaned.”
“Yes.”
“Panicked?”
“No.”
She looked toward the mountain of cleaning products beside the sink.
“Sure.”
The firearm issue came next.
Wade legally owned several guns.
All secured in a heavy safe bolted inside a locked room.
Denise inspected.
“Combination?”
“Only me.”
“If Lily lives here, ammunition remains locked separately.”
“It already is.”
She nodded.
Medication?