Chương 3
He had smiled.
“For you.”
“I look like roadkill.”
“Very pretty roadkill.”
She had thrown a clean sock at him.
He had put the mirror into the side pocket of the bag.
The memory was so ordinary that it made her nauseated.
In the hotel elevator, Robert stared at the closed doors.
Emma watched their reflection in the brushed metal.
Her father looked old.
Not sixty-five.
Older.
His right hand trembled.
“You shouldn’t have hit him,” she said.
“I know.”
She had expected an argument.
He gave none.
“You could have made this worse.”
“I know.”
“You did make it worse.”
“I know.”
The elevator rose.
Noah slept against Robert’s chest.
Robert looked down at him.
“I saw the wires,” he said. “Then I saw Daniel see me seeing them.”
Emma said nothing.
“That’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That he was afraid.”
“So you hit him.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t knowing.”
Robert swallowed.
“No.”
The elevator opened.
They walked down the hallway.
At the room door, Robert handed Noah back to her and used the key card.
Emma moved automatically once they were inside. Bassinet. Bottle. Clean diaper. Wash hands. Check Eli. Check Noah. Count breaths even though she had promised herself she would stop counting breaths.
Her phone buzzed six times on the nightstand.
Daniel.
She turned it face down.
Robert stood beside the window.
His tropical shirt was still damp in places from the splash zone, though he had not been swimming.
“Do you know that man?” Emma asked.
Robert did not pretend ignorance.
“The one Daniel looked at?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I’ve seen him.”
“Where?”
She tried to find the memory.
A doorway.
Their house.
A cardboard coffee tray.
Daniel laughing differently than he laughed with family.
Then she had it.
“He came over after the babies were born.”
Robert turned.
“Green shirt?”
“Different shirt.”
Despite everything, she nearly smiled at his seriousness.
“His name is Kyle.”
“Last name?”
“I don’t know.”
Her phone buzzed again.
Robert said, “You don’t have to read those.”
“I know.”
She picked it up.
Daniel had sent seven messages.
Please let me explain before you decide what this is.
I know how it looks.
Kyle should not have been there.
That part is on me.
The camera was part of work. I should have told you.
I never meant for you or the boys to be hurt.
Please answer.
Emma read the fourth message again.
Kyle should not have been there.
She typed: Who is Kyle?
The typing bubble appeared immediately.
It vanished.
Returned.
Vanished again.
Then:
Kyle Mercer. We worked together at LatticeHome.
Emma knew LatticeHome.
Daniel had been laid off from the company eight months earlier.
She typed: Why was he here?
Daniel answered faster this time.
He wanted the card.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed.
Robert watched her.
She turned the phone so he could read.
The older man’s mouth tightened.
“What card?”
She almost said it.
Then stopped.
Her father had already hit Daniel.
She was not going to turn every new piece of information into fuel.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“That’s not true.”
Robert looked at her.
“Fine. What?”
“Go downstairs.”
His face hardened.
“Emma.”
“Not to find Daniel. Not to find Kyle. Go to the front desk and ask them to move me to a room Daniel can’t access.”
Robert stared at her.
Then nodded.
“And don’t tell them why.”
“Okay.”
“Dad.”
“I heard you.”
“Say it.”
He looked irritated now, which was reassuringly normal.
“I will not hunt your husband through a water park.”
“Thank you.”
He left.
Emma locked the door behind him.
She stood with her forehead against it for several seconds.
Then one of the babies cried.
There was no dramatic moment after that.
No collapse.
No revelation.
No chance to sit on the floor and process betrayal.
Noah needed changing.
Eli woke because Noah was crying.
Eli wanted to eat.
Noah spit up down the front of Emma’s swimsuit.
The clean onesie she pulled from the diaper bag had a yellow stain she had somehow missed when packing.
Her breast pump was in Daniel’s suitcase.
For almost twenty minutes, the terrible secret had to wait while she dealt with two small people who did not care that their father had hidden a camera in a mirror.
That was the first thing Emma would later remember about the afternoon.
Not the slap.
Not the wires.
Not even Daniel’s face.
The fact that life did not pause politely for betrayal.
She used formula for Eli because the pump was downstairs and because she was tired of treating every feeding decision like a referendum on whether she deserved to be a mother.
While he drank, she looked around the hotel room.
Television.
Lamp.
Smoke detector.
Wall art.
Coffee maker.
Black rectangle beneath the television.
She stared at each object too long.
Then hated herself for staring.
Her phone buzzed.
Daniel again.
It was testing equipment for a company Kyle started.
Emma did not answer.
Another message came.
I got paid. I’m telling you before you find out somewhere else.
The bottle stopped moving in Eli’s mouth.
Emma looked down.
“Of course you did,” she whispered.
Eli blinked at her.
He had Daniel’s chin.
At least everyone said he did.
Emma hated herself for thinking that.
She put the bottle down and lifted him against her shoulder.
Her phone stayed silent for nearly a minute.
Then:
I was trying to fix our situation.
She laughed once.
It was an ugly sound.
The babies did not react.
Robert returned with a new room key and two security employees who waited discreetly in the hallway while Emma moved the bassinets, luggage, and stroller three floors up.
Daniel did not come near them.
He called Robert once.
Robert declined it.
He called Emma four times.
She declined all four.
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At 4:03, Emma received a text from an unfamiliar number.
Mrs. Hayes, my name is Kyle Mercer. I owe you an explanation regarding a device Daniel was participating in testing. I understand there has been an upsetting misunderstanding at the resort. I would like to resolve this privately and respectfully.
