Ellmann and I were lying together in the dark. I could tell by his slow breathing he was dozing, near sleep. I was alternating between lying with my eyes closed, wishing myself to sleep, and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the dozens of questions bouncing around in my head. Ellmann rolled onto his side and pulled me closer, wrapping an arm around my middle and laying his head on my good shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I’m just wondering what’s more important than losing your house.”
“You said the grandmother was protecting Dillon.”
How would Danielle Dillon benefit from Grandma Porter losing her house? How did losing the house protect Danielle?
“That’s just a feeling,” I said. “And it doesn’t really track.”
“Don’t doubt your instincts. No one has instincts as good as yours.”
Much to his dismay, most of the time.