started long before he arrived. His gaze settled on Michael.
“Sir,” he said, “are you the owner of this unit?”
Michael’s mouth opened. Linda answered for him.
“My son lives here.”
The officer didn’t look at her.
“I asked whether he owns the property.”
Michael finally cleared his throat.
“My wife and I are married.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
I saw something shift in Michael’s face. More like the sudden realization that the version of events he had rehearsed in his head didn’t sound quite as reasonable when spoken aloud
