Jasper stayed on the floor until the anger cooled into something colder, sharper. Screaming at the walls wouldn't bring the house back. It wouldn't stop Ronald from tearing it down. What he needed now was a plan, starting with the most urgent question: Where do I sleep tonight?
He pulled himself up and checked the scarred kitchen table again. Less than ten dollars. Rent for the cheapest single room he'd ever seen started at five hundred a month, sometimes more. Even shared spaces asked for two or three hundred upfront. He had nothing close to that.
His mind went to the one person who might understand.
Kelvin.
His only real friend from school. The guy who always had his back, who never treated him like the poor kid with dead parents and sick grandparents.
Jasper found his old phone, battery at 8 percent, and dialed. It rang once.
"Yo, bro!" Kelvin picked up instantly, voice loud and warm. "How'd the funeral go, man? You good?"
Jasper swallowed. "Not really."
He told him everything. The dry-eyed relatives. The will video where his name was never spoken. The lawyer's gentle headshake. Ronald at the door, smiling like he'd won a prize, talking about turf and weights while the only home Jasper had ever known got reduced to "this place has to go."
Kelvin's voice dropped. "WTF, bro. They just erased you? And now the house too?"
"Yeah. Demolished. I've got the weekend to get out."
Silence on the line, then Kelvin exhaled hard. "Man, that's messed up."
"That's why I'm calling." Jasper's voice stayed quiet, steady. "I don't have anywhere to go. I was wondering, could I crash with you? Just till I find a job and save enough for rent. I won't be any trouble."
Another beat of silence. Then Kelvin said, "Look, bro, you know I'd say yes right now, but I can't decide that alone. I gotta talk to Mom and Dad. But I got you, okay? I'll convince them. Give me a couple hours."
Jasper let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks, man. Really."
"No problem. Sit tight. I'll call you back."
The line went dead.
Jasper set the phone down carefully, like it might break. At least there was a thread of hope now. He thought about Kelvin's parents, how many times Mr. David had spotted him walking the long road home after school and turned the car around just to drop him off. How Grace always made sure there was an extra plate when he came over, never making him feel like charity. They had treated him like family when no one else did.
Maybe, just maybe, they would do it again.
Later that evening at the Smith house
The dining table was crowded with dishes: baked chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, steamed green beans, warm cornbread, and a fresh apple pie cooling on the counter for dessert. Grace, still in her apron, finally sat down after serving everyone else. She looked tired from the weekend cooking, but her smile was soft when she glanced at her children.
They ate in comfortable quiet for a minute. Kelvin kept glancing at his dad, waiting for the right moment.
"Dad," he started, spoon halfway to his mouth.
David paused, lowered his fork. "Mm?"
"You remember Jasper?"
His dad nodded slowly. "Of course. The quiet one who always helped his grandparents."
Kelvin took a breath. "His grandparents both passed. Funeral was the day before yesterday."
Grace looked up, eyes softening. "Oh, that poor boy. He's been through so much already."
"Yeah," Kelvin said quickly, before she could get too emotional and derail him. "It went fine, but there's a problem. They didn't leave him anything in the will. Gave everything to the other relatives. And now his cousin, who inherited the house, showed up today saying he's turning it into a sports center. Wants it demolished. Jasper's got nowhere to stay."
David's eyebrows rose. "A sports center? In that quiet area? That doesn't even make sense. Who's going to drive all the way out there for weights and turf?"
"I know, right?" Kelvin said. "But the point is, he's about to be homeless. I told him I'd ask if he could stay here. Just temporarily. Till he gets a job and can pay rent somewhere."
The table went quiet.
David and Grace looked at each other. No words, just that long, wordless parent conversation that happens in glances and tiny nods. After a few seconds, they both turned back to Kelvin.
Grace spoke first. "Tell him yes. He can come."
David added, "But we only have the storage room free right now. It's spacious enough, same size as a bedroom, really, but it's still a storage room. Ask if he's okay with that."
Kelvin's face lit up. "Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. Seriously."
He was already pushing back from the table, phone in hand before he reached the stairs.
Up in his room, he dialed. Jasper picked up after three rings.
"Bro, guess what?" Kelvin didn't wait. "They said yes. You can stay here. They're cool with it. Only thing is, it's the storage room, but it's big, man. You'll be fine."
Jasper's voice came through soft, almost disbelieving. "For real?"
"For real. Come tomorrow if you want. Whenever you're ready."
A long exhale on the other end. "Thanks, bro. I don't know what I would've done. I'll come tomorrow."
"Anytime. We got you."
The call ended.
Jasper stood in the dim kitchen, staring at the few things he owned: a small duffel of clothes, Grandpa Walter's old pocket watch (the only thing he'd kept from the house that felt like his), a couple schoolbooks, his phone charger. The rest, of the things in the house dose not worth carrying.
He zipped the bag slowly.
Tomorrow he'd walk out of this house for the last time.
But at least he wouldn't be walking into nothing.