The rain continued through the night.
But something had changed inside the house.
Mara no longer felt entirely alone.
At three in the morning, the ceiling gave way.
The crash woke everyone.
Caleb and three others rushed toward the back room.
Mara stood frozen in the hallway.
“Don't move!” Caleb shouted.
A large section of soaked plaster had fallen.
Fortunately, nobody was underneath it.
The riders began moving furniture.
They discovered rotten beams.
Water damage.
Mold.
A section of floor that had become dangerously weak.
Caleb crouched beside it.
“How long has this been like this?”
Mara looked away.
“A while.”
“How long?”
She didn't answer.
Hank examined the damaged boards.
“This isn't a one-week repair.”
“I know.”
“Ma'am, you need professionals.”
“I know.”
Caleb stood.
“And you need money.”
Mara's face tightened.
“That isn't your concern.”
“It became our concern when that ceiling almost landed on you.”
She looked at him angrily.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Mara finally did.
The mortgage had been paid.
But property taxes were overdue.
Medical bills remained.
Her savings were nearly gone.
The roof had deteriorated slowly.
The porch had become unsafe.
She had considered selling the house.
But Thomas had built half of it himself.
Selling it felt like selling the last piece of him.
“My daughter wants me to move to Colorado,” she whispered.
“Then why don't you?”
“Because she has her own life.”
Caleb stared at her.
“You think your daughter wouldn't want you?”
Mara looked down.
“I think she already has enough to carry.”
Nobody answered.
The truth was sitting in the room.