“I want you to leave,” I said.

Trevor turned and went into the living room, where Kelli was.

When I got there, he had yanked Kelli around in her stool, away from the window, and was kneeling on the floor in front of her, his hands gripping the sides of her seat.

“That what you want, K-bean? You want me to leave? You want Trebie to go and never come back?”

Kelli’s reaction to the surprise of this was to stare hard into her lap, frowning and muttering.

“What’s that? Speak up so your sister can hear you, Bean-o.”

“Leave her alone,” I said.

“No,” said Kelli loud and clear.

“What’s that? You don’t want Trebie to go away?”

“No Trebie,” said Kelli, scowling at his proximity.

“She wants you to get away from her,” I said.

Trevor ignored me. “Whaddya say, Beaner? Want me out of here?”

“No,” said Kelli again, placing her hands over her ears.

Trevor straightened, triumphant. “Two against one!” he declared.

“Come back into the kitchen, Trevor,” I said. “Let’s talk, ok?”

“No,” said Trevor primly. “This is a family discussion and I think Kelli should be a part of it. Right, Bean?”

But Kelli was full-on rocking and whispering now. She had removed herself.

Every now and then I’d glance out onto the street. The sun had risen and the streetlights faded out. The LED at Mr. Gill’s clicked off and moments later a woman emerged from the house, Mrs. Gill, presumably, to water her flower pots, overflowing with spindly pansies, blown out from summer. Then she went back inside and the street was quiet again. Soon there’d be dog walkers. One or both of the Gills climbing into their cars to head to work. Marilyn too. Maybe not Noel, since he was retired. The point was, there’d be people on the sidewalks within the hour, going about their morning only a few feet away from us.

“We need to make a plan,” Trevor was saying. “Just one example — we wanna keep this house or not?”

“The house is sold,” I said mildly. I was trying to keep everything I said mild.

“You sign the papers? ’Cause nothing’s a done deal if you haven’t signed the papers. You can still back out.”

“True,” I said after a moment.

“I mean, this is a great fuckin house,” said Trevor. “Let’s face it. Lots of room. Pretty good neighbourhood. Beaner likes it, eh, Bean?”

Kelli hummed, gazing out the window.

“We could give it a nice makeover if you don’t like the looks of it anymore. Get rid of that fluorescent in the kitchen — I know you don’t like that. Strip the wallpaper. Maybe pull up the carpet out here, put down some nice hardwood. Modernize the place a bit.”

My heart began to gallop.

“Yes,” I said as if thinking about it.

“Might be a fun little project for us both,” said Trevor.

For us both. “You want — to move in?”

Trevor shrugged, not as if to say I don’t know but as if the question itself was a no-brainer. “No sense paying rent on a place when I’m here half the time anyway.”