Chương 12
“Yes.”
“That feels cruel.”
“It’s true.”
“She needs certainty.”
“She needs honesty.”
I looked at him.
“You weren’t very good at that when I was a kid.”
“No.”
He took that too.
I typed slowly.
Tell her I don’t know yet, but none of this is her fault and she will see me tomorrow.
Marisol responded with a heart, which irritated me because she knew I hated heart emojis during serious conversations.
Then she sent another message.
She says okay.
A minute later, my phone rang.
David.
I let it ring.
He called again.
Dad looked at the screen but did not move.
On the third call, I answered.
“What?”
David’s breathing filled the line.
“You sent the government to our house.”
“No.”
“They’re here.”
“Who?”
“Two federal investigators.”
Evelyn walked back into the room holding three coffees.
She stopped.
I put the call on speaker.
David heard the movement.
“Who’s there?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It’s your father, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Claire, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“You need to tell them the box is mine.”
“I don’t know whose it is.”
“You know it’s mine.”
“I know it was in our closet.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t tell me what’s in it.”
He swore under his breath.
Evelyn set the coffees down.
David continued.
“I need you to tell them you put it there.”
The room became perfectly still.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
My voice went flat.
“You want me to lie?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“It sounds exactly like that.”
“I brought some documents home because I was afraid they’d disappear.”
“Then tell them that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, apparently I don’t.”
“If they think I removed restricted materials—”
Evelyn raised one hand, signaling me not to engage further.
I said, “David, stop.”
“No, you need to hear this.”
“I heard enough.”
“Claire.”
“You hit me.”
He went silent.
I felt my pulse in my cheek.
“You hit me because our son has blue eyes, and now you’re asking me to lie to federal investigators for you.”
“That’s not fair.”
The words came out almost childlike.
I stared at the phone.
“Fair?”
“I was out of my mind.”
“You were scared.”
“Yes.”
“About him?”
Another silence.
That was the answer.
Dad closed his eyes.
My chest tightened.
“You knew the eyes didn’t prove anything.”
David’s voice dropped.
“I didn’t know what I was thinking.”
“You knew my father has blue eyes.”
“I forgot.”
“You’ve met him fifty times.”
“I panicked.”
“About work.”
“About everything.”
“No.”
I shifted Benjamin against my chest.
“You saw Dad at the door, you saw that phone, and you panicked about work.”
David started breathing faster.
“Claire, please.”
There was the word I had been waiting for all night.
Not sorry.
Please.
It had finally appeared when he needed something.
Evelyn moved closer and whispered, “End the call.”
I almost did.
Then I asked one question.
“Why did you want me to say the box was mine?”
David said nothing.
“Why?”
“Because your father’s involved.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know he didn’t put the box in our closet.”
“You don’t understand how these people operate.”
“These people?”
“The government.”
My father looked at the ceiling.
I said, “You work for a government contractor.”
“That’s different.”
“Not tonight.”
His voice sharpened.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“Do you have any idea what happens if I’m charged?”
“I don’t.”
“We lose the house.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head slightly.
Not necessarily.
David kept going.
“My career is over.”
“That might happen.”
“You’ll have nothing.”
There it was.
The old weapon.
Different packaging.
Same blade.
“You can’t support five kids on your salary.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You haven’t worked full-time in six years.”
“I know.”
“You rely on me.”
“I know.”
“You need me.”
That one landed.
Because yesterday, I would have agreed.
Not happily.
Not proudly.
But practically.
Mortgage.
Insurance.
School tuition.
Groceries.
Five children.
I had arranged my life around the assumption that David would keep earning and I would keep absorbing.
Then I looked at Dad.
Not because he could rescue me.
Because I suddenly understood why he had asked what I wanted before making a single call.
“No,” I said.
David went quiet.
I spoke more slowly.
“I need help.”
My throat tightened.
“But that is not the same as needing you.”
He breathed in.
“Claire.”
“I’m not lying for you.”
“You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe.”
“If you do this, there’s no coming back.”
I looked down at Benjamin’s blue eyes.
“For once,” I said, “I think you’re right.”
Then I ended the call.
For several seconds after the call ended, nobody moved.
My hand stayed wrapped around the phone as if David might somehow reach through it and take the decision back.
Evelyn was the first to speak.
“Good.”
I looked at her.
“That did not feel good.”
“It was still good.”
Dad leaned back in his chair.
“You answered your own question.”
“What question?”
“What you wanted me to do.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know what I want you to do.”
“You wanted me not to solve it for you.”
I looked at him.
He had that annoying expression he got when he believed he had made an important point but was trying not to look pleased with himself.
“Don’t become philosophical at midnight.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Evelyn picked up one of the coffees and handed it to him.
“Drink this before you become worse.”
Dad took it.
“I don’t become worse.”
“You absolutely do.”
I stared at them.
“Do you two always talk like this?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said.
“No,” Dad said at the same time.
That almost made me laugh.
Then my phone buzzed again.
A text from an unknown number.
Mrs. Bennett, this is Special Agent Nathan Ruiz.
Please do not enter your residence until we speak.
I showed Evelyn.
She nodded.
“That tracks.”
“Do I answer?”
“Yes.”
“What do I say?”
“That you received it.”
“That’s it?”
May you like
“That’s it.”
I typed, Received.
