Chương 5
Not because she learned something.
Because she realized there was still something waiting to be uncovered.
The room changed.
Not because she learned something.
Because she realized there was still something waiting to be uncovered.
Maren stood slowly.
The movement was careful, almost automatic.
Her left shoulder tightened from the effort, a small reminder of the injury she had spent years pretending did not affect her.
“What things?”
Evan looked toward the box in his hands.
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
“That has never stopped you before.”
The words came out sharper than she intended.
Evan looked at her.
She saw the hurt on his face.
For a second, she almost softened.
Almost.
Then she remembered the suitcase.
The doorway.
Lydia standing behind him.
“I need you to understand something,” he said.
“No.”
He stopped.
“No?”
“I don’t need you to explain it so you feel better.”
His expression changed.
“I’m not trying to make myself feel better.”
“Aren’t you?”
Silence.
That was the answer she hated most.
Not because it proved she was right.
Because it meant they were both tired of pretending.
Evan placed the box down near the door.
“After the fire, there was an investigation.”
Maren frowned.
“I know.”
“You know there was an investigation.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know everything about it.”
Her stomach tightened.
The fire was a subject she avoided whenever possible.
Not because she forgot.
Because she remembered too clearly.
The smell.
The heat.
The sound of glass breaking.
The weeks afterward when everyone spoke to her in soft voices as if she might disappear if they raised their volume.
“What does this have to do with Lydia?”
Evan rubbed his forehead.
“She was working for the company that handled the building’s safety review.”
Maren stared at him.
“What company?”
“Vale Property Assessments.”
The name meant nothing at first.
Then something shifted.
Not a memory.
A feeling.
“I don’t understand.”
Evan looked at her carefully.
“Lydia was one of the people who reviewed the reports after the fire.”
Maren felt the room become strangely distant.
“She reviewed what?”
“The inspection documents.”
“Why would you know that?”
He looked away.
And there it was.
The answer hidden inside the question.
“You knew her before?”
“No.”
“Evan.”
“I knew about her.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
He took a breath.
“I found out last year.”
Maren stared.
Last year.
The phrase landed harder than anything else.
“You found out last year that someone connected to the fire was involved with your work, and you said nothing?”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know what it meant.”
“You had a name.”
“Yes.”
“You had information.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
Evan’s jaw tightened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
The anger arrived instantly.
“Stop saying that.”
He froze.
“Stop saying you were protecting me when you were actually protecting yourself.”
The sentence stayed between them.
Evan looked down.
Because he knew there was truth in it.
That made it worse.
Maren walked to the kitchen counter and held onto the edge.
Her fingers pressed against the wood.
“When did you meet Lydia?”
“At work.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And you just happened to start a relationship with someone connected to the worst thing that ever happened to me?”
“It wasn’t planned.”
“No.”
Her voice became quiet.
“That would almost be easier.”
Evan looked confused.
“If you planned it, then at least I could understand you made a choice.”
She turned toward him.
“But this means you were careless.”
He had no answer.
The rain outside grew heavier.
Water moved down the window in uneven lines.
Maren remembered another rainy night.
The night Evan sat beside her hospital bed.
She had been awake for almost thirty hours.
Her body hurt everywhere.
She had asked him if she looked different.
He had held her hand.
He had said, “You’re still you.”
For years, she believed those words.
Now she wondered if he had believed them too.
“Why bring her here?” Maren asked.
Evan looked exhausted.
“Because she wanted to talk to you.”
Maren laughed quietly.
The sound had no humor in it.
“She wanted to talk to me.”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
Evan hesitated.
“She knows there were problems with the building before the fire.”
Maren stopped breathing for a moment.
“What problems?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“But you know something.”
He looked away.
“Maren.”
“What problems?”
The second time she asked, her voice changed.
Not angry.
Afraid.
Evan noticed.
“I found documents.”
“What documents?”
“Old inspection notes.”
“Where?”
“At work.”
“Why were they there?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
He looked frustrated.
Not at her.
At himself.
“They were attached to a file Lydia was reviewing.”
Maren felt a cold sensation move through her arms.
“What did they say?”
Evan did not respond immediately.
That pause told her enough.
“They said there had been concerns about the electrical system.”
Her hand moved away from the counter.
“The fire wasn’t an accident?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it.”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
Evan looked at her.
And for the first time since he entered the apartment, she saw something besides guilt.
Fear.
Real fear.
“I thought maybe someone missed something.”
“That is different.”
“Yes.”
“Someone missing something is not the same as someone causing something.”
“I know.”
She sat down.
The chair scraped softly against the floor.
The sound seemed too normal for the conversation they were having.
“How long have you known?”
“A few months.”
Maren closed her eyes.
A few months.
The same answer.
The same period of time he had been distant.
The same period of time he had been leaving her emotionally before he left physically.
“You were going to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Evan did not answer.
She nodded.
“Right.”
He picked up the box again.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
He looked at her.
May you like
“That if I told you, you would start asking questions.”
Maren stared.
