Chương 10
Elara nearly smiled.
Then Rebecca said, “I can file for emergency temporary orders regarding custody and exclusive use of the residence, but I need to be very clear about something.”
Elara waited.
“Emergency does not mean immediate in the way television teaches people.”
“How long?”
“I’ll request the earliest hearing available.”
“That could be days.”
“Yes.”
“And until then?”
“You maintain the hospital restriction, stay somewhere safe, document every attempt at contact, and do not negotiate custody in text messages.”
Elara stared at Leo’s bassinet.
“What if he comes to Naomi’s house?”
“Call the police if he refuses to leave or threatens you.”
“What if he just stands outside?”
“Document it.”
“What if he says he only wants to see his son?”
Rebecca paused.
“Then remember that wanting something and being entitled to obtain it on demand are different things.”
Elara rubbed her thumb against the laptop edge.
“He’s Leo’s father.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to use Leo to hurt him.”
“That is the correct instinct.”
Rebecca’s tone softened for the first time.
“But protecting a newborn from a parent whose recent judgment is in serious question is not the same thing as using the child as leverage.”
Elara swallowed.
“What if a judge thinks I’m overreacting?”
“Then I present evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“The hospital records.”
Rebecca began counting without sounding like she was counting.
“Your calls for help, the texts he read, witness statements, his social media posts, the voicemail, the fact that he left for three days, and whatever the financial investigation establishes.”
Elara closed her eyes.
Her marriage had become a list.
Rebecca continued.
“I also want the security footage from your home preserved.”
“The police already have some of it.”
“Some?”
“The front entrance camera.”
“What about interior cameras?”
Elara opened her eyes.
“We don’t have any.”
Naomi looked at her.
“What about the baby monitor?”
Elara turned.
The nursery monitor had video.
Mark had insisted on the expensive model because it connected to both phones and stored motion clips in the cloud.
Her pulse picked up.
Rebecca heard the silence.
“What?”
“The baby monitor records.”
“Do you have access?”
“I think so.”
“Don’t open anything yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to preserve it correctly.”
Rebecca gave her an email address for her firm’s digital evidence vendor and asked Elara to forward the account information without changing or downloading files.
Elara did as instructed.
The act felt strangely intimate.
There might be footage of her feeding Leo half asleep.
Crying in the rocking chair.
Changing shirts after milk leaked through them.
Standing in the nursery with her robe open while trying to figure out a breast pump.
Now strangers might see those moments.
“I hate this.”
Rebecca was quiet.
“I know.”
“No, I mean all of it.”
Elara’s voice shook.
“I hate that proving what happened means handing people pieces of my life.”
“Yes.”
“Is there another way?”
“Not always.”
Elara looked away.
Rebecca did not offer comfort.
Elara appreciated that more than she expected.
The call ended with an appointment for the next morning by video.
Before hanging up, Rebecca said one final thing.
“Do not sign anything Mark sends you.”
Elara almost laughed at the repetition.
“I won’t.”
“I mean anything.”
“I understand.”
“People get scared and sign agreements because they want the pressure to stop.”
Rebecca’s voice became firmer.
“If you feel that urge, call me first.”
After the call, Naomi stood and stretched.
“You like her.”
“I don’t know her.”
“You like that she bosses you around professionally.”
“I absolutely do not.”
Naomi smiled.
“You always liked terrifying women.”
Elara thought of her former creative director, a sixty-year-old woman named Frances who once rejected an entire campaign by writing try again in red marker across the presentation board.
“You may have a point.”
The quiet lasted until Leo began crying.
This time Elara let Naomi pick him up first.
It was a small thing, but Naomi noticed.
She tucked him against her shoulder and walked slow circles around the room.
“He likes me better.”
“He thinks you’re furniture.”
“He has taste.”
“He pooped on you yesterday.”
“That was political.”
Elara laughed.
The laugh faded when her email chimed.
A message from Mark’s attorney had arrived.
The subject line read FAMILY ACCESS AND PROPERTY PRESERVATION.
Elara did not open it.
She forwarded it to Rebecca.
Thirty seconds later, another email arrived.
This one was from Mark.
No subject.
Elara stared at his name.
Naomi saw it.
“Don’t.”
“I won’t answer.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
Elara opened the message.
There were no accusations.
No threats.
Just four sentences.
I know you’re scared.
I’m scared too.
Please don’t let Naomi and the police turn this into something it isn’t.
I love you and Leo more than anything.
Elara read it twice.
Her body reacted before her anger did.
A familiar ache opened beneath her ribs.
This was the Mark who appeared after fights.
The quiet Mark.
The one who touched his forehead to hers and said he hated when they became enemies.
The one who brought home blueberry muffins after forgetting anniversaries.
The one who could sound wounded enough that Elara eventually apologized for being angry.
She hated that those memories were real too.
Naomi held Leo against her shoulder.
“What does it say?”
Elara closed the email.
“Nothing useful.”
Naomi studied her.
“You okay?”
“No.”
It was easier than saying yes.
That evening, Elara’s doctor told her that her blood count was improving.
She might go home the following afternoon if nothing changed.
Home.
The doctor used the word automatically.
Elara did not correct her.
After dinner, Mrs. Bell called Naomi and asked whether she could visit.
Elara almost said no.
Then she remembered the diapers.
“Tell her yes.”
Mrs. Bell arrived wearing a green raincoat and carrying a paper grocery bag.
She looked smaller in the hospital room than she ever had across the street.
May you like
Her gray hair was pinned badly at the back of her head.
She stared at Elara for several seconds before speaking.
