Part 4
“I would never ask you that.”
“You asked me to invite her today.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“I told you she had been saying strange things about the baby.”
“She says strange things.”
“I told you I did not want to be alone with her.”
Grant looked down.
There it was.
Not guilt alone. Recognition.
Claire felt tears gather, hot and humiliating. “You said she was your sister.”
“She is.”
“And I’m your wife.”
“I know.”
“Tonight, one of those sentences mattered more to you than the other.”
He sat again. The chair gave a faint squeak beneath him.
“I thought if I could keep her included,” he said slowly, “she would stop acting like everything was being taken from her.”
“Was that what she said?”
“Not directly.”
“What did she say?”
Grant rubbed his thumb against his wedding band. “That after the baby came, I would forget she existed.”
Claire waited.
“She said families close ranks. She said you had been waiting for an excuse to shut her out.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That she was being dramatic.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you’d cancel the shower.”
“I would have.”
“Yes.”
“And you wanted the shower more than you wanted me to feel safe?”
He flinched. “No.”
“But that was the decision.”
“Yes.”
The honesty landed harder than denial would have.
Claire turned toward the window. A helicopter moved silently between buildings, its red light blinking above the avenue. Behind her, Grant’s phone vibrated again.
This time the message was for Claire.
Vanessa: I need you to tell him the truth before he ruins my life.
Claire read it twice.
Then another message arrived.
You know I never meant for you to fall.
And another.
You stepped backward because you were yelling.
Claire held the phone toward Grant.
He read the messages, jaw tightening.
“She’s building a version,” Claire said.
“Save them.”
“I am.”
Vanessa called.
The name filled the screen.
Grant reached for the phone, but Claire held it away.
“Don’t answer,” he said.
Claire looked at him. “Why?”
“Because she’ll manipulate you.”
“She has been manipulating you for fifteen years.”
His hand fell.
The phone continued vibrating.
Claire accepted the call and turned on the speaker.
Vanessa breathed into the silence.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
A pause. Then a small, broken sound. “Thank God.”
Claire said nothing.
“Are you all right?”
“You left.”
“I panicked.”
“You left me on the floor.”
“Grant was there. The medics were there. I wasn’t helping anyone by staying while he threatened me.”
“He told you not to move.”
“He doesn’t own me.”
“No.”
Another pause. Vanessa’s voice softened. “How is the baby?”
“Being monitored.”
“Is something wrong?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Vanessa began crying.
This time the tears sounded real, which made Claire angrier rather than less. Vanessa always found her feelings once they could compete with someone else’s.
“I swear to you,” Vanessa said, “I was not trying to hurt the baby.”
“You kicked a table toward me.”
“I kicked the table. Not toward you.”
“It fell beside my head.”
“I misjudged it.”
“You looked at me first.”
“I was angry.”
“Why?”
“Because you were accusing me.”
“Of what?”
“You said I was stealing from Grant.”
Claire glanced at him.
His face hardened.
“I said you charged twelve thousand dollars for a six-person lunch,” Claire replied. “I asked what you bought.”
“You made it sound criminal.”
“Was it?”
Vanessa stopped crying.
Grant leaned toward the phone. “Where are you?”
His sister exhaled. “Of course you’re there.”
“Where are you?”
“I am not talking to you while you’re like this.”
“You assaulted my wife.”
“I knocked over furniture.”
“She fell.”
“She stepped back.”
“You lied the second I came through the elevator.”
“I was scared.”
“You smiled.”
Silence.
Grant’s voice lowered. “I saw you.”
Vanessa inhaled sharply.
Claire looked at him. He had not seen the smile. He was guessing, giving Vanessa a chance to correct him.
She did.
“You were facing Claire.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Claire felt a chill move across her arms.
Vanessa realized too late what she had admitted.
Grant said, “So you did smile.”
“I was in shock.”
“You smiled when you thought I wasn’t looking.”
“I don’t remember my face every second.”
“But you remember where I was facing.”
“Stop twisting everything.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“No.”
“Then the police will find you.”
“You called them before asking me what happened.”
“I asked you.”
“You accused me.”
“Because your shoe print was on the table.”
“I already explained that.”
“The camera will explain it better.”
Vanessa’s breathing became audible.
Claire watched Grant’s expression settle into something colder than anger.
His sister said, “That camera doesn’t record inside your apartment.”
“It records the hallway.”
“The table was across the threshold.”
“No,” Claire said. “It wasn’t.”
Silence again.
Vanessa knew the exact field of view. She had checked.
Grant spoke carefully. “You asked the building manager about the recording system this afternoon.”
“I asked about privacy.”
“You asked how long footage was stored.”
“He told you that?”
“I was standing beside you.”
“No, you weren’t.”
Grant looked at Claire.
Claire understood before he spoke.
“I wasn’t,” he said. “The florist was standing beside you.”
Vanessa cursed under her breath.
Grant’s hand closed around the edge of the bed. “So you remember the conversation clearly enough to know who heard it.”
“I am done with this.”
“Vanessa—”
The call ended.
For several seconds, the room held only the monitor’s rhythm.
Claire set the phone down.
Grant stared at the dark screen. “She planned something.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe not the fall.”
“Does that matter?”
He looked at her.
“She wanted to frighten me,” Claire said. “Humiliate me. Break something. Make the shower end with everyone worried about her or angry at me. Maybe she didn’t plan exactly where the table would land. She still chose to kick it.”
Grant nodded once.
“You don’t sound surprised,” she said.
May you like
“I’m surprised by what she did.”
“Not by what she wanted.”
