“Gus is there,” Caesar says, putting a hand on Frankie’s back. “He’ll handle it.”

Frankie stifles another yawn. “Vamos,” he says.

They leave by the front door, Caesar ushering Frankie as if afraid he’ll tumble down the front steps. They look like a cute old married couple. Then Ethan closes the door and turns to look at me. “So this is bad.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I say.

“Like last time?” Ethan rubs his face. “Sorry. That was …”

“It’s okay,” I say. “And if I have to, yeah. Like last time.”

Ethan nods and we stand there in his den, saying nothing. Even Wilson is quiet, lying on the floor and looking from Ethan to me and back, waiting to see how we react.

“So what do we do?” Ethan says.

“I need to look through whatever papers and records we have from Mom and Dad’s house,” I say. “Do you have them? Or does Uncle Gavin?”

“I’ve got them. There’s some bins in the storage room.” Ethan pauses. “What are you looking for?”

“Something that might have to do with the money, or Dad’s time in Iraq,” I say. “There’s probably nothing but it’s a start. And tomorrow I’ll go talk to Uncle Gavin, see if he knows anything.”

Ethan rubs his face again. “Okay. Let me make some coffee and I’ll help you go through all that stuff.”

“No, you’ve got school tomorrow.”

“It’s summer school. I’ll get someone to sub.”

“You need to go to sleep is what you need to do.”

“You think I’m going to be able to sleep after tonight?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re half dead on your feet. You look almost as bad as Frankie.”

“Now you’re just being bitchy.”

“You called me, remember? You asked for my help. I’m here. I’ll take care of it.”

“But—”

“I need you to go on having your normal life,” I say.

We look at each other for a few moments. Then Ethan gives me a half smile. “Not sure I’d call my life normal.”

“Compared to mine, your life is a Norman Rockwell painting. Show me those boxes and then go to bed. I’ll let you know tomorrow if I find anything.”