Noah replied.
Then became quiet.
Keller did not press.
The next Thursday changed everything.
The clubhouse door slammed open at 5:22.
A man shouted:
“Where is he?”
Noah dropped a tray of washers.
Metal scattered across the table.
His face drained completely.
Lucky looked at him.
He did not need to ask who had arrived.
Clive Henderson pushed through the main room.
His work shirt was untucked.
Eyes bloodshot.
He smelled of alcohol even from several feet away.
Lucky stepped between Clive and Noah.
“Can I help you?”
“You can get out of my way.”
Clive said.
“That’s my foster kid.”
“He’s coming home.”
Keller emerged from the office.
“Mr. Henderson.”
Clive turned.
“Noah’s scheduled until six.”
“I don’t care.”
“He’s got chores.”
Keller kept his tone neutral.
“You’re his guardian?”
“Foster father.”
“Then you know his after-school placement was approved by county services.”
Clive hesitated.
The paperwork existed now.
That mattered.
“I didn’t approve anything.”
“County did.”
“This place is filling his head with garbage.”
“What garbage?”
Clive pointed toward Noah.
“Thinking he’s better than everybody.”
“He comes home acting like he’s got choices.”
The room went still.
Keller said:
“He does have choices.”
Clive’s jaw tightened.
“Not in my house.”
Noah stared at the floor.
Keller saw his hands trembling.
Clive noticed too.
“Get your bag.”
Noah moved instantly.
Lucky put one hand on the workbench.
Not blocking.
Just grounding himself.
Keller said:
“His shift ends in thirty-eight minutes.”
Clive stepped forward.
“I said now.”
Keller did not move.
Neither did Razer, who had quietly appeared in the doorway.
Nor Barker.
Nor Joe.
Nobody threatened Clive.
They simply existed.
Five adults.
Watching.
Clive looked around.
Counted.
Then changed tactics.
“He has responsibilities.”
Keller asked:
“What kind?”
“That’s family business.”
“Homework?”
“Housework?”
“Something else?”
Clive’s face reddened.
“You people don’t know anything.”
Keller replied:
“That’s why I’m asking.”
Clive pointed toward Noah.
“Maybe if he wasn’t such a screwup all the time, people wouldn’t have to…”
He stopped.
The sentence died.
Keller heard it.
Everyone did.
“Wouldn’t have to what?”
Clive stared at him.
“Nothing.”
He looked at Noah.
“One hour.”
“You’re home.”
Then turned.
Left.
The door slammed.
Noah remained frozen.
Lucky crouched several feet away.
“Hey.”
No response.
“Noah.”
The boy looked at him.
“You’re here.”
Lucky said.
“That’s all.”
Noah swallowed.
“I should go.”
Joe arrived ten minutes later.
Keller had already called Molina.
She instructed them not to prevent Noah from returning unless he disclosed immediate danger or asked for emergency protection.