He replies with relief. “Is that all? My father has a big apartment for me, and she can have her own room with us.”
Not workable, I think, and I scramble to make something up. “She feels safe in that house and doesn’t want to leave.”
The thing with a lie is that soon more become necessary to cover up the ones before it. And so I continue with, “After my brother is married, she will live with him.”