Trusting his sons completely, Donald signed.
Two weeks later, Donald returned, refreshed and in good spirits.
“Everything went through,” Aaron said. “Victor even bought a house.”
“That’s wonderful,” Donald said happily. “Now let’s find my place.”
“We already did,” Aaron replied as they got into the car.
Half an hour later, they pulled up to an old, neglected summerhouse—three walls, half a roof, no signs of life for at least fifteen years.
Donald stared in disbelief. “Here?”
“This is your new home now,” Victor said without meeting his eyes.
“This is… the old summerhouse! I can’t live here,” Donald protested, his voice cracking.
“I can’t afford to help you rent something better,” Aaron muttered.
