The Billionaire Married a Homeless Girl novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: Shiloh Street

"Send someone to Shiloh Street," Nolan said into the phone.

"Don't," I said.

He looked at me.

"If you send four men to that house, nobody opens the door. I'm going myself."

"Bridget."

"The gray coat can wait at the end of the block. You get to know where I am. You don't get to come inside."

He held the phone against his chest for a moment.

Then he said into it, "Do what she says," and hung up.

I drove the Corolla.

It was the first time I had driven it since the wedding.

It started on the second try.

Shiloh Street is a steep brick row in Brookline, with porches the size of doormats and every house leaning on the next.

I parked across from number nine and sat for a minute with my hands on the wheel.

The steps were the same.

The paint had gone gray, and the third one still had a crack in it.

I had carried a trash bag down them once, in the dark, with a pregnant belly and a coat that wouldn't close.

The boat sat in the side yard on a trailer, under a blue tarp.

Someone had pulled one corner back, and I could see a white hull and gold letters on the stern.

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