PART 10 – The Attorney Asked Us to Separate What We Knew From What We Feared, and That Was Harder Than I Expected

Mr. Collins called shortly before noon.

Daniel answered on speaker while I sat at the kitchen table with Olivia asleep in her carrier.

“I reviewed the immediate situation,” Mr. Collins said. “I want to make sure we're clear about the next steps.”

Daniel glanced at me.

“Go ahead.”

“First, don't assume that yesterday's visit settled every question. The officer documented what he saw, but the legal process depends on the facts and the applicable rules.”

I appreciated that he didn't promise an easy solution.

My mother had spent years making every problem sound simple when she wanted someone else to accept her answer.

Mr. Collins did the opposite.

He asked questions.

He separated what we knew from what we suspected.

He told us when he needed more information.

“What do you recommend we do today?” Daniel asked.

“Keep a record of the room's condition and the belongings that were moved. Don't dispose of anything. Don't make threats, and don't take steps that could create a separate legal problem.”

I looked toward the hallway.

The plastic bags were still there.

“We've taken photographs,” I said. “The crib is in the garage.”

“Good. Keep those photographs.”

“And Jason is still in the house.”

“Then we need to address his presence properly. I will review the documents and the circumstances before advising you on the exact procedure.”

Daniel leaned forward.

“Can we ask him to leave?”

“You can make your position clear. How that request must be handled is a separate question, and I don't want you relying on assumptions.”

That answer wasn't dramatic.

It was also the first useful thing anyone had said since we came home from the hospital.

Mr. Collins asked whether Jason had received a key.

“No,” Daniel said.

“Has he paid rent or signed an agreement with you?”

“No.”

“Did either of you give him permission to occupy the nursery?”

“No.”

“Did you authorize your mother to make that arrangement on your behalf?”

“No.”

Each answer felt like a small stone placed on a table.

Nothing about those facts changed because my mother believed her intentions were good.

Before ending the call, Mr. Collins said he wanted to speak with Jason about the paperwork that had caused such a reaction the previous evening.

I glanced at Daniel.

“What paperwork?” I asked after the call ended.

He lowered the phone.

“The documents Mr. Collins mentioned.”

“I know that. I mean, what are they about?”

Daniel hesitated.

“I don't know everything.”

That answer bothered me more than I expected.

“Did you know Jason recognized him?”

“I knew they'd dealt with each other before. I didn't know Jason would react like that.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I didn't know what it meant, Hannah. I didn't want to invent an explanation.”

I looked down at Olivia.

Her cheek was pressed against the edge of the blanket, and one foot had slipped free.

I tucked the blanket around her.

“I'm not asking you to invent anything. I'm asking you to tell me what you know.”

Daniel nodded.

“That’s fair.”

He explained that Mr. Collins had handled an earlier matter involving Jason and documents Jason had signed.

He did not know the full contents or every detail of that matter.

Neither did I.

The attorney had not explained it in front of us, and I wasn't going to turn Jason's frightened expression into proof of something I couldn't name.

Still, I couldn't ignore the way Jason had changed when he saw that folder.

He had been dismissive when the officer asked about the nursery.

He had been irritated when we said he couldn't stay indefinitely.

But the moment Mr. Collins referred to the earlier paperwork, Jason had gone quiet.

I wanted to know why.

I also knew that wanting to know did not give me the right to fill in the blanks myself.

Later that afternoon, Daniel and I sat together in our bedroom while Olivia slept in the bassinet.

The house had gone quiet except for the occasional click from Jason's room.

“Do you think there's something we should be worried about?” I asked.

“I think we should listen to the lawyer before deciding what any of this means.”

I sighed.

“I hate not knowing.”

“I know.”

“I keep thinking there must be some reason Jason looked so scared.”

“There might be. But it could be something private, something complicated, or something we don't understand yet.”

Daniel took my hand.

“We don't need to know every detail of his life to decide what happens in our house.”

I stared at the white crib sheet folded over the dresser.

He was right, although I didn't like how little certainty that gave me.

The original problem had been simple.

We had prepared a room for our daughter.

My mother and Jason had changed it without our permission.

Everything that followed had made the situation feel larger, as if there had to be a hidden explanation that would make their behavior understandable.

Perhaps there wasn't one.

Perhaps they had simply believed we would give in.

That evening, I asked Jason to sit with us in the living room.

He came reluctantly, carrying his phone.

“Mr. Collins will be following up about the paperwork,” I told him. “Until then, we aren't going to speculate about it.”

Jason's shoulders eased slightly.

“Good.”

“But the nursery still needs to be cleared.”

His expression hardened again.

“I thought we were dealing with one thing at a time.”

“We are. The room is one of those things.”

He looked at Daniel.

“Can you at least give me a few days?”

Daniel answered carefully.

“We'll handle the timing through Mr. Collins. We aren't going to make a decision that creates another problem, but you can't assume you're staying.”

Jason looked down at his phone.

For once, he didn't say our mother had promised him anything.

Click here to continue reading: PART 11: When Jason Finally Explained What He Wanted, I Realized That His Biggest Expectation Was Not Help but Permission Without Questions