Chương 10
Emily looked at her.
“I heard you,” Leah continued. “I knew Richard had been drinking. I knew he was angry. I told myself if I stayed out of it, he would calm down.”
The monitor stopped typing.
Leah’s fingers trembled.
“When I came up, he said you grabbed the scissors. You had blood on your shirt. The police were there. They spoke to him first because he met them at the door. Then they told me to wait inside.”
“You let them take me.”
“I thought they were taking you to calm down.”
“In a police car?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You were.”
Leah lowered her eyes.
Emily’s voice became softer. “You were thinking about him.”
Leah began to cry silently. She turned her face away, ashamed even of that.
Emily did not move toward her.
After the visit, Haron expected anger. Instead Emily asked whether they could stop at the hardware store for a better bulb for Cal.
They compared wattage in aisle seven.
A store employee with a nose ring explained heat gradients while Emily listened carefully. Haron placed the more expensive bulb in the cart.
“You looked at the price three times,” she said.
“Mind your business.”
She almost smiled.
At checkout, his card was declined.
The employee looked away politely.
Haron removed the bulb.
Emily took out a twenty-dollar bill.
“Where did you get that?”
“Richard gave it to me.”
“No.”
“It’s money.”
“No.”
“Cal needs the bulb.”
“I said no.”
People in line shifted behind them.
Emily placed the bill on the counter. “It doesn’t belong to him anymore.”
Haron felt anger arrive, quick and familiar.
Then he saw her watching his hands.
He picked up the bill slowly.
“Put it back,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I need a minute to be wrong in private.”
They stepped aside.
He crouched near a display of work gloves. “You’re right. It’s money. You can spend it how you choose.”
“You hate that he gave it to me.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t change the bulb.”
“No.”
She bought it.
On the drive home, Haron stopped at a bank and opened a savings account in her name with the remaining six dollars and forty-three cents. The teller explained that a minor account required an adult custodian. Haron almost objected to the word custodian, then signed the form.
Emily kept the receipt folded in her pocket.
Detective Park contacted Noah’s mother during the third week.
Her name was Rachel Moreno. She lived two states away and did not want to speak at first. Richard had dated her for four years when Noah was between seven and eleven. She had reported him twice for harsh discipline. Both cases closed without findings after Noah withdrew his statements.
Rachel called back three days later.
Noah was twenty now. He agreed to speak with investigators but refused to testify.
Haron learned this from Park during a meeting at the station. The same fluorescent lights hummed above them. The evidence counter had a new coffee cup but the same clipboard.
“Why won’t he testify?” Haron asked.
“He has his reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“They are not yours.”
“They affect Emily.”
“That does not make them yours.”
Haron leaned back.
Park opened a folder. “Richard’s defense is seeking access to your custody records, prior complaints, criminal history, and communications with Emily.”
“Let them.”
“They will present your concern as obsession.”
“Then they’ll be partly right.”
Park’s eyes lifted.
Haron rubbed his beard. “I kept notes.”
“What kind of notes?”
“Dates. Things Emily said. Times Richard canceled exchanges. Bruises.”
“Photographs?”
“Some.”
“Where?”
“My email.”
“Did you ever tell Emily to repeat statements for recording?”
“No.”
“Did you ask leading questions?”
“Yes.”
Park waited.
“I asked if he hit her. I asked if she was afraid. I asked whether she wanted to live with me.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mr. Haron.”
“I don’t know.”
Park closed the folder.
The room seemed colder.
“I was trying to help,” he said.
“I believe that.”
The sympathy in her voice made the admission worse.
Richard’s attorney obtained several voice messages Haron had left Leah over the years. In one, Haron said, Someday everybody is going to see what he is. In another, he threatened to take Leah back to court and leave her with nothing but Richard’s expensive shoes.
Moss released selected excerpts to the press.
Haron watched the report in silence while Emily sat on the floor feeding Cal.
The television showed his booking photograph again. Then a reporter described a bitter custody dispute. Richard’s attorney appeared outside the courthouse.
“This case is not about protecting a child,” Moss said. “It is about a man using a child to punish his former wife.”
Emily dropped a pellet into the tank.
Cal missed it.
“Turn it off,” she said.
Haron did.
“Did you say those things?”
“Yes.”
“Did you want Mom to have nothing?”
“At that moment.”
“Do you now?”
He looked at the dark television screen.
“I want her to understand what she did.”
“That’s not the same question.”
“No.”
She waited.
He sat on the couch.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want her to have nothing.”
Emily fed Cal another pellet. “Richard says people tell the truth by accident.”
Haron felt the sentence settle between them.
“Richard says many things that are almost true,” he replied.
The next supervised visit lasted eleven minutes.
Emily entered carrying a folder from school. Leah had brought homemade cookies, which remained unopened.
“I need you to say something,” Emily told her.
Leah looked toward the monitor. “What?”
“That the post was wrong.”
“I deleted it.”
“I want you to say it was wrong.”
“Here?”
“Everywhere.”
Leah’s face tightened. “My attorney told me not to discuss the case publicly.”
“You discussed it when you thought Richard was right.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Then say that.”
“Emily, legal things are happening now. Anything I post could be used—”
“Against who?”
Leah stopped.
May you like
Emily held the science folder against her chest. “You said I was emotionally distressed.”
“You were.”
