Chương 7
He stared at her.
“You think the permanent part starts with what I do next?”
Claire’s shoulders sagged.
For a few seconds, she looked exhausted rather than defensive.
Her hair had fallen loose over one side of her face.
She pushed it back.
“I didn’t want to hurt them.”
“I believe you didn’t want to think of yourself as someone who was hurting them.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“Maybe not.”
He spoke quietly.
“But it’s the first thing you’ve said that I can almost believe.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
Then she turned and walked toward the house.
Daniel followed several steps behind.
When they entered, Rachel stood near the kitchen island.
She looked from Daniel to Claire.
Claire ignored her.
“I’m going upstairs.”
Rachel said nothing.
Claire looked at Lily.
Lily’s entire body changed.
Her shoulders rose.
Her hand found Noah’s.
Claire saw it.
Something moved across her face so quickly Daniel could not name it.
She went upstairs without speaking.
Daniel waited until he heard the bedroom door close.
Rachel looked at him.
“How bad?”
He glanced at the kids.
“Later.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel crouched in front of Lily.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Has Mom ever put you and Noah in the shed before today?”
Lily looked toward the stairs.
Daniel followed her eyes.
“She’s upstairs.”
Lily looked back at him.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
She shrugged.
“Lots.”
Daniel’s throat tightened.
“More than five?”
“Yes.”
“More than ten?”
She thought about it.
“Maybe.”
Noah whispered, “On Tuesdays.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What happens on Tuesdays?”
“The babysitter leaves early.”
Rachel’s eyes sharpened.
Daniel kept his voice even.
“What’s the babysitter’s name?”
“Marissa,” Lily said.
Daniel knew Marissa.
Twenty-two.
College student.
She had worked for them nearly a year.
“What time does she leave?”
“Three.”
“And what happens after she leaves?”
Lily stared at the floor.
“Sometimes Mom sleeps.”
“Where?”
“In her room.”
“And you?”
“We watch TV.”
“Does she tell you to stay downstairs?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if you go upstairs?”
Lily’s fingers tightened around Noah’s hand.
“She gets mad.”
“How mad?”
Lily shrugged.
Daniel hated the shrug more than crying.
It meant the answer had become ordinary.
“Does she hit you?”
“No.”
“Has she ever hit Noah?”
“No.”
“Has she grabbed you before?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My arm.”
“Anything else?”
Lily looked embarrassed.
“Sometimes my face.”
Rachel moved slightly.
Daniel looked at her.
She had gone pale.
He turned back to Lily.
“What do you mean, your face?”
“She holds it.”
“With one hand?”
Lily nodded.
“Like your chin?”
“Yes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
Daniel inhaled slowly.
He wanted to ask fifty questions at once.
Instead he made himself stop.
Noah climbed onto the sofa and curled against Rachel.
She pulled him close.
Daniel sat on the coffee table across from Lily.
“Has Mom ever left the house while you were here alone?”
Lily hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“She goes outside.”
“Where?”
“Sometimes in the car.”
Daniel’s stomach dropped.
“For how long?”
Lily looked toward Noah.
Noah was tracing a seam on Rachel’s scrub pants.
“I don’t know.”
“Does Marissa stay?”
“No.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
Daniel’s voice became quieter.
“When did that happen?”
Lily shrugged again.
“A bunch.”
“Recently?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom tell you where she was going?”
“She said not far.”
“Did she take her phone?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you what to do if something happened?”
“She said call her.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel said, “Daniel.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean stop.”
He looked at her.
She lowered her voice.
“You’re asking too much at once.”
He looked back at Lily.
Lily was rubbing her thumbnail against the edge of her dress.
Rachel was right.
Daniel stood.
“Okay.”
Lily looked relieved and immediately guilty about being relieved.
He sat beside her instead.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by answering me.”
She nodded.
He wanted to say more.
Nothing he could think of sounded like something a child should have to hear.
Noah looked up.
“Are we still getting pizza?”
The question hit the room oddly.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Lily gave Noah a small shove with her shoulder.
“What?”
He frowned.
“You said pizza.”
Lily said, “Not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not a reason.”
Rachel let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
Daniel looked at Noah.
“Pizza is still allowed.”
Noah considered this.
“Pepperoni?”
“Yes.”
“Mom doesn’t like pepperoni.”
Daniel looked toward the stairs.
“We can order more than one.”
Noah seemed satisfied.
Rachel met Daniel’s eyes.
For one strange second, the room felt normal.
Then Daniel’s phone vibrated.
It was an email notification from the home security company.
He had requested remote access to the archived backyard footage months earlier after a package theft in the neighborhood.
The account was still active.
He opened the app.
Rachel saw the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking the cameras.”
“Not in front of them.”
He nodded.
“Can you stay here?”
“Of course.”
Daniel walked into his study and closed the door.
The room smelled faintly of leather and printer paper.
His desk was exactly as he had left it before Chicago.
A coffee ring marked one corner of a legal pad.
He sat down and opened the security archive.
The backyard camera stored thirty days automatically.
He selected the current date.
The footage loaded.
He watched Claire take Lily and Noah toward the shed.
Even without sound, the body language was unmistakable.
Lily resisting.
Noah crying.
Claire grabbing Lily’s upper arm.
The shove.
The door.
The latch.
Daniel stopped the video.
He sat still for several seconds.
Then he changed the date.
The previous Tuesday.
At 3:17 p.m., Claire appeared in the yard.
Lily and Noah followed.
Claire pointed toward the shed.
The children went inside without being touched.
That was somehow worse.
They already knew the routine.
Claire closed the door.
She slid the latch.
Daniel’s breathing slowed.
He checked the timestamp.
3:18.
He moved forward.
3:25.
The door remained closed.
3:32.
Still closed.
May you like
3:41.
Claire came outside carrying her phone and opened it.
