Susan crossed back over the property line.
Marcus watched her go.
For one hopeful second, he thought she had finally decided to return home.
Then she bent down and grabbed the nozzle.
Daniel took a step forward.
"Susan, don't."
She turned the water on.
The hose stiffened across the grass.
Marcus still held the box marked FAMILY against his chest.
"Mrs. Whitmore."
Susan dragged the hose toward his driveway.
"Move the truck."
Marcus stared at her.
"No."
The first burst of water struck the concrete near his boots.
Cold spray jumped up against his jeans.
Susan tightened her grip.
"I said move it."
Marcus shifted the box higher in his arms.
"My truck is legally parked on my property."
Susan aimed the nozzle directly at him.
Daniel's voice sharpened.
"Susan, put the hose down."
She ignored him.
The water hit Marcus across the shoulder.
It was sudden enough to twist his body half a step.
The cardboard box jerked in his hands.
For a moment, the entire street seemed to stop.
Water ran down the front of Marcus's gray shirt.
Susan stared at him.
Marcus stared back.
His voice stayed low.
"Stop."
She sprayed him again.
This time, the stream crossed his chest and neck.
Marcus turned his face away, protecting his eyes.
The box absorbed the edge of the spray.
Dark spots appeared across the cardboard.
Helen covered her mouth from her porch.
Thomas Bennett stepped fully outside now.
Nobody else spoke.
Susan's breathing had become fast and shallow.
"You do not get to come in here and act like you own the place."
Marcus looked at the house behind him.
Then back at her.
"I do own it."
The sentence seemed to enrage her more than anything else.
Susan swung the hose toward the box.
The stream hit the word FAMILY.
Water exploded across the cardboard.
Marcus moved immediately.
"No."
It was the first time his voice had risen.
Not a shout.
But enough.
He turned his body, trying to shield the box.
Susan kept spraying.
Water hammered the side.
Soaked through the tape.
Ran beneath Marcus's fingers.
Daniel moved closer.
"That's enough."
Susan pointed the nozzle toward him.
"Stay out of this."
Daniel stopped.
Not because he agreed.
Because the moment had become unstable.
Marcus backed toward the porch.
The box was getting heavier.
Wet cardboard sagged against his forearms.
He could feel the bottom softening.
Something inside shifted.
He carried it quickly through the front door.
The noise outside disappeared the instant he crossed into the empty house.
Only water dripping from his clothes remained.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Each drop struck the hardwood floor.
Marcus set the box on the kitchen counter.