Chương 6
Officer Cho pulled the visitor chair closer but did not sit until I told him he could.
He looked younger than I expected.
Thirty, maybe.
His wedding ring was scuffed.
He took out a small notebook instead of opening a tablet.
“Would you prefer your nurse remain?”
“Yes.”
Marisol stayed beside the medication cart.
Cho asked me what happened.
Not why.
What.
The distinction mattered.
I told him.
The words sounded plain.
David entered.
David saw Nathan.
David questioned the baby’s paternity.
David shouted.
David slapped me.
David threatened divorce.
David threatened to take the girls.
David insulted my father.
Cho occasionally asked for exact wording.
I remembered more than I wanted.
When I reached the part about David calling Nathan a bastard, my voice cracked.
Cho looked down at his notebook until I recovered.
He did not tell me to take my time.
I liked him for that.
“Did you strike your husband at any point?”
“No.”
“Threaten him?”
“No.”
“Block him from leaving?”
“No.”
“Did he appear intoxicated?”
“No.”
“Any drugs you know of?”
“No.”
“Firearms in the home?”
My entire body tightened.
“Yes.”
Marisol looked at me.
Cho’s pen stopped.
“How many?”
“Two.”
“Where?”
“One handgun in a biometric safe in our bedroom closet.”
“And the other?”
“A hunting rifle in a locked case in the basement.”
“Does he have access?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
“To the handgun safe, yes.”
“Do your children?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
The certainty came too fast.
Cho noticed.
“How certain?”
I thought about Grace watching David open the safe once by pressing his thumb to the pad.
“Not completely.”
Cho nodded and wrote something.
“Your father is at the residence?”
“On his way.”
“I’m going to update the officers there about the firearms.”
“Please.”
Something cold moved through me.
David had never threatened anyone with a gun.
I knew that.
He had always been careful about storage.
I knew that too.
But twenty-four hours earlier I would also have said he had never hit me.
The sentence sat there without needing to be spoken.
Cho finished the report, took photographs with my consent, and gave me an incident number.
He explained that David’s removal from the house that evening did not automatically mean he was barred from returning later.
If I wanted additional protection, there were civil procedures.
Patricia would help with that.
Again, nothing dramatic happened.
No one promised justice before dinner.
Cho thanked me and left.
Marisol checked my blood pressure.
“Still high.”
“I wonder why.”
She adjusted the cuff.
“Could also be because you just had a human being.”
“That seems excessive too.”
Nathan woke and began crying.
His face turned red with astonishing speed.
Marisol helped me reposition him.
For several minutes my entire world became feeding, soreness, blankets, and the humiliating difficulty of coordinating a body that had apparently forgotten all instructions.
Nathan rooted in the wrong direction.
I nearly cried from frustration.
Marisol did not make it sentimental.
“Newborns are terrible at almost everything.”
“That’s comforting.”
“They improve.”
“Do husbands?”
She looked at me.
“No comment.”
That was probably wise.
My phone buzzed again.
Not David.
Dad.
At the house.
Girls safe.
David gone with police escort.
I stared at the words.
Gone where?
I typed.
Not arrested.
Brother picking him up.
I felt relief.
Then shame for feeling relief.
Then anger at the shame.
The emotions piled together until none of them had clean edges.
Another message followed.
Police secured firearms temporarily with consent.
I frowned.
Whose consent?
Dad replied almost immediately.
David’s.
That surprised me.
I read it twice.
Why would he agree?
Dad did not answer.
A minute later, Emma called on video.
I nearly declined because I looked terrible.
Then I caught myself.
My daughter had heard her father shouting about my fidelity.
She could survive seeing my hair.
I answered.
Four faces crowded the screen.
Emma held the phone too close.
Sophie was crying.
Lily had apparently brought a bowl of cereal upstairs.
Grace wore one sock.
“Hi.”
They all talked at once.
“Stop.”
Nobody stopped.
I laughed despite Marisol’s earlier prohibition.
“Everybody stop.”
Emma finally shushed them.
“Grandpa is making eggs.”
I stared at her.
“At eight o’clock at night?”
“He said nobody ate dinner.”
“That is how time works,” Dad called from somewhere offscreen.
Grace spun the phone.
Dad stood at our stove wearing my flowered apron over his flannel shirt.
I stared at him.
“I need a picture.”
“Absolutely not.”
Emma immediately took one.
Dad pointed a spatula at her.
“Delete that.”
“No.”
“Mutiny.”
“You raised Mom.”
“That does not make this my fault.”
The girls laughed.
For half a minute, the sound almost convinced me everything could still be repaired.
Then Sophie asked, “Where is Dad sleeping?”
Silence took the room on both ends of the call.
Dad turned back to the pan.
Emma’s face tightened.
I could have lied.
I almost did.
“He’s staying with Uncle Mark tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because your dad and I had a very bad argument.”
“Did he hit you?”
Emma stared at me.
My cheek was visible on screen.
I had forgotten.
Sophie gasped.
Lily stopped chewing.
Grace squinted.
“Is that why your face is red?”
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Grace asked, “Did it hurt?”
My eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“I don’t like Dad.”
“That’s okay to feel right now.”
Sophie looked furious.
“Did police take him because he hit you?”
“No.”
That was not exactly true.
I corrected myself.
“They came because I asked for help after he hit me and because I was worried about you.”
Emma looked down.
“Dad said you were trying to steal us.”
The room disappeared around me.
“What?”
“He said you were going to make us live with Grandpa.”
Dad turned from the stove.
His face changed.
“When did he say that?”
“Before police came.”
“Anything else?”
Emma glanced at me.
“He said Mom had a boyfriend.”
Sophie whispered, “He said the baby belonged to him.”
May you like
Lily looked confused.
“What boyfriend?”
