“Can I help you with that?” Will said, stepping forward, already frustrated with himself. Damn his instincts. What good did it do him to make their sabotage plans easier? To let them stay, to indulge all their chatter, to walk each of them to the door like they’d been invited?

The man squinted at him over the top of his box. “I don’t need your help,” he said, overloud, his voice echoing off the hallway walls, probably scaring the decorative cherubs. “I could bench-press you, Beanpole.”

Jeez, all right. No one had ever called Will a beanpole. But also no one had ever accused him of killing someone for a rental permit, or given him three houseplants, so. It was a day for firsts. He sighed as the man moved past him, walking into Donny’s place like he owned it.

The box went onto the seat of the recliner, and the old man stuck out his hand for Will to shake. “I’m Jonah Hajduk. I’m eighty years old, and I’ve lived here longer than anyone, which means I like you and what you’re doing the least, I suspect.”

“Okay,” Will said, returning Jonah’s strong grip. At this point, the honesty was refreshing. At least he wouldn’t have to feed this guy cheesy potatoes and make conversation.

When they dropped hands, Jonah gestured toward the box. “These are a few of your uncle’s things, mostly tools he lent me, but also a couple of books I never got around to reading.”

“Sure. Thanks for bringing them by.” Now please go, he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to match Jonah’s frankness.

“You don’t look anything like him.”

Will shrugged. “I wouldn’t really know.” He hadn’t gotten a good look, that day.

“And he never mentioned you. Not once.”

Will ignored the pang he felt at that. He moved toward the recliner, pretending to look at the contents of the box. But really, he saw nothing.

“That’s not a surprise to me, if that’s what you’re aiming for. He fell out with my mother a long time ago.”

As near as he could tell from the few bits of information he’d been able to pry out of his mom in the weeks after their ill-fated trip here, the feud between her and Donny had mostly been about the trouble she’d caused when she’d gotten involved with Will’s father—sneaking out, lying, big fights with her mom. Maybe that all would have been regular teenage stuff, but eventually, she’d also run away, and taken a good deal of Donny’s and her mother’s money with her. She’d told it all simply, and without shame. Maybe even with a bit of pride.

He reached into the box, shuffled some of its contents around, trying to look busy.

“All’s I’m saying is, none of us knew you exis—”