Chapter 10: Picking Up the Pieces
The next few days passed in a blur of domestic reorganization and cautious recovery. Maya spent most of her time resting on the living room sofa, surrounded by pillows and a stack of parenting books Leo had borrowed from the local library. Without Derek draining their resources and bringing chaos to their doorstep, the atmosphere in the house transformed completely. The shouting matches were replaced by quiet conversations over dinner and the steady, comforting thud of Buster patrolling the perimeter of the backyard. Leo continued working long hours at the auto shop, picking an extra evening shift whenever possible to cushion their depleted savings, determined to provide for the baby when it arrived.
One evening, as Leo was folding laundry on the kitchen table, Maya hobbled into the kitchen holding a small stack of unopened mail that had accumulated near the front door. She sorted through the envelopes, tossing junk mail into the bin until she paused at a small, handwritten envelope with no return address. Her expression tightened. "Leo, look at this," she said, sliding the envelope across the table. Leo picked it up, recognizing Derek’s messy, hurried handwriting immediately. He slit open the flap and pulled out a folded piece of lined notebook paper.
The note was brief and desperate: Leo, I need my tools from the garage. I won't cause trouble. Just leave them on the porch. Don't shut me out completely, man. Leo stared at the words, feeling a familiar spike of irritation. Derek’s work tools were the only things of value he owned—expensive mechanic wrenches and power drills he occasionally used for side jobs. If Leo left them on the porch, it would invite Derek back onto the property, breaking the clean boundary they had just established. Maya looked at Leo, her eyes searching his face for direction. "What are you going to do?" she asked quietly, her voice steady.
