Chương 3
Catherine knew that. Everyone who had been married into the Harrison family knew it in the same blurry way they knew a great-uncle had once lost money in Florida. The details had been softened through years of careful language.
“How many times?”
Evelyn looked toward the window. “Enough.”
“Did Michael know?”
“He was fifteen when he found out.”
“And he hated his father for it.”
“Yes.”
Catherine felt something cruel and immediate rise in her. “Apparently not enough.”
Evelyn flinched, then recovered. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
“No.”
The older woman stood and moved to the bassinet. She did not touch Sophie. “May I see her?”
Catherine’s first impulse was to refuse. It felt primitive, almost satisfying—the idea of taking every person Michael loved and placing them outside the room. But Sophie opened one hand in her sleep, fingers curling around nothing.
“You may look,” Catherine said. “Don’t pick her up.”
Evelyn nodded.
For nearly a minute, neither woman spoke.
“She has Michael’s mouth,” Evelyn said.
Catherine studied the baby. “I hope not.”
The answer was petty. Evelyn’s shoulders lowered.
Catherine expected herself to apologize. She did not.
By midmorning, the rain had become a gray mist over the city. Traffic moved again along the river. The hospital social worker arrived with a legal pad and a voice designed not to sound official.
Her name was Joanne Willis. She asked Catherine whether she felt safe returning home.
“It’s my home,” Catherine said.
“That wasn’t my question.”
Catherine looked at the woman more carefully. Joanne was perhaps fifty, with practical shoes and a purple pen clipped to her badge. She did not seem impressed by the private suite, Catherine’s jewelry, or the name Harrison.
“I don’t believe Michael would physically hurt me.”
“Has he ever blocked a doorway, taken your phone, damaged property, threatened you, or used money to control your choices?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Joanne waited.
Catherine adjusted Sophie’s blanket. “He has taken my phone during arguments.”
“How often?”
“Twice. Maybe three times.”
“Has he returned it when asked?”
“Eventually.”
“Has he threatened custody?”
“Not before today.”
Joanne wrote something down. “What did he say today?”
Catherine showed her the message.
You cannot keep my daughter from me.
“That isn’t necessarily a threat,” Catherine said.
“It may not be. Context matters.”
“He’s frightened.”
“So are you.”
“I’m not frightened.”
Joanne’s expression remained neutral.
Catherine felt irritation flare. “I am exhausted. I had surgery. My husband brought his mistress to the hospital. I’m humiliated, not frightened.”
“You do not have to use a particular word for me.”
The room grew quiet except for Sophie’s breathing and the faint beeping of a monitor in the hallway.
Joanne asked whether Catherine had somewhere else to stay. Catherine said she owned half the penthouse on Bellevue Place and would not abandon it. Joanne asked whether Michael had access to firearms. He did not. She asked whether Catherine wanted hospital security to document the incident. Catherine hesitated.
Daniel’s warning returned: Intent is not the only thing that causes harm.
“Yes,” she said. “Document it.”
Michael was permitted a supervised visit that afternoon.
Catherine agreed because the alternative felt like allowing the corridor to define every decision that followed. Lena wheeled Sophie’s bassinet near the window. A security officer remained outside the open door. Daniel stood at the foot of the bed, officially there to assess Catherine’s blood pressure and unofficially there because she had asked him not to leave.
Michael entered without his jacket. He had changed shirts, but the same dark trousers were wrinkled at the knees. The wedding ring was not visible.
He stopped when he saw Sophie.
For the first time since Catherine had known him, Michael seemed unable to arrange his face for another person. His lips parted. His eyes reddened almost immediately. He moved one step forward, then glanced at Daniel and stopped.
“She’s beautiful.”
Catherine said nothing.
Michael approached the bassinet slowly. His right hand hovered above the blanket. “Can I touch her?”
“Yes.”
He placed one finger against Sophie’s palm. Her hand closed around it.
Michael bent his head.
Catherine watched grief, love, guilt, and self-pity pass through him so quickly that none could be trusted. Still, the tears that fell onto the striped blanket were real. She knew because Michael hated crying in front of anyone. At his grandmother’s funeral, he had gone into a coat closet and stayed there until his eyes were dry.
“She has your nose,” he said.
“She’s six hours old.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His shoulders stiffened.
Daniel shifted the blood-pressure cuff higher on Catherine’s arm.
Michael looked at him. “Could we have privacy?”
“No,” Catherine said.
“I need to talk to my wife.”
“Then talk.”
Michael lowered his voice. “Amber answered because I was in the shower.”
Catherine felt the cuff tighten.
“In her hotel room?”
“It was a suite used for the meeting.”
“Who else was in the suite?”
He paused.
Daniel watched the monitor.
“People had left,” Michael said.
“What people?”
“The investors. Two attorneys. Nolan.”
“Nolan Reese was there at three in the morning?”
“He left earlier.”
“So you were alone with Amber.”
Michael looked toward the bassinet. “This is not how I wanted to explain it.”
“That sentence has never improved anything.”
“I made a mistake.”
“A mistake is forgetting the car seat.”
“I’m not asking you to excuse it.”
“You’ve asked twenty-three times since four in the morning.”
“I’m asking you to hear me.”
“I heard her.”
The cuff released with a soft hiss. Daniel removed it but did not announce the reading.
Michael’s jaw tightened. “Amber and I have been involved for a few months.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“People know.”
“It was not—”
“How many?”
May you like
“Five.”
Catherine counted backward without meaning to. Five months placed the beginning near the anatomy scan, when Michael had stood beside her watching Sophie’s spine appear on the screen and squeezed Catherine’s foot because her hands were covered in gel.
