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Another beat.

Then her voice softens. “Can I talk to my brother?”

“Sure.”

I look toward the hall, but still no sign of Beckett. “So about this homeless thing⁠—”

“Temporarily unhoused.”

She tries to correct me.

I smile.

“Pretty words don’t make it any less tragic.”

“Bishop…”

“What?” I prop an elbow on the table. “Just making sure we’re using the correct terminology.”

“Get my brother. Please.” Her voice catches on the last word.

“Fine.” I sigh, hating hearing her like that.

He appears a second later. I hold out the phone. “Finally, man. I thought maybe you fell in. Your sister’s homeless.”

“Bishop!”

Her shout is loud enough that Beckett hears it before he takes the phone.

He frowns. “What the fuck?”

“Temporarily,” I add.

He takes the phone. “Laney?”

I sit back and let her explain it. Again. This time for the intended audience. And from the sound of it, the condensed version. Beck’s expression changes as he listens.

“What do you mean they don’t have an apartment?”

Pause.

“No, that’s bullshit.”

Another pause.

“Then stay where you are. I’ll get you another room.”

I already know what she’s going to say.

“No.” I can hear it from where I’m sitting.

Beckett pinches the bridge of his nose. “Laney.”

More muffled arguing.

“I can afford a hotel.”

Another pause. “That’s not the point.”