Chương 6
“But they could have.”
“They could.”
Lily began to cry.
Not the small annoyed sound from before.
A real cry.
My chest tightened instantly.
“Hold on.”
Marisol came in before I could press the call button and helped lift Lily to me.
I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear.
Meredith said, “You should call me tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“I need to know what’s happening.”
“You also need to feed your daughter.”
I hated being managed.
I hated that everyone suddenly had legitimate reasons to tell me what to do.
“Give me ten minutes.”
“No.”
“Five.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Meredith.”
“Listen to me.”
Her tone flattened.
“If Daniel used your identity in corporate transactions, the worst thing you can do tonight is start improvising conversations while exhausted and medicated.”
I looked down at Lily.
Her mouth opened in furious little jerks as she searched for me.
“I’m not medicated that heavily.”
“You had abdominal surgery today.”
“People keep bringing that up.”
“Because you keep pretending it’s administrative trivia.”
Marisol gave me a pointed look.
I surrendered.
“Fine.”
“Forward me the CFO’s email.”
I did.
“Do not reply beyond saying counsel will contact him.”
“That sounds dramatic.”
“It sounds represented.”
“I hate that.”
“I know.”
Meredith hung up.
I fed Lily.
For fifteen minutes, nothing else mattered.
Her fingers opened against my skin.
Her eyelids fluttered.
Every few seconds she stopped drinking and seemed to reconsider the entire project before starting again.
I watched the tiny movement of her jaw and felt something inside me loosen.
Then guilt arrived.
Not rational guilt.
The ugly kind.
The kind that whispered that I had failed to choose her father properly, that I had somehow brought her into a life already cracked down the middle.
I touched the back of her head.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Marisol was adjusting an IV pump.
She looked over.
“For what?”
I regretted speaking aloud.
“Nothing.”
She did not push.
That kindness nearly broke me again.
My mother pretended to be very interested in opening a bag of chips.
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, turkey, and newborn skin.
Outside, someone laughed near the nurses’ station.
A cart squeaked.
Life continued with astonishing disrespect for disaster.
My phone rang again.
Daniel.
I ignored it.
He called six times over the next twenty minutes.
Then he began texting.
What did you tell Vanessa?
Why are you talking to my coworkers?
You are trying to destroy me.
Pick up the phone.
This affects Lily too, you know.
That last message made heat rise through my chest.
I typed, You affected Lily when you stole from her emergency fund.
I deleted it.
Then I typed, Do not use her name to threaten me.
I deleted that too.
Finally, I sent nothing.
Daniel’s messages changed tone.
Please just answer.
I can explain.
This is bigger than you think.
Then, ten minutes later, one message stopped me cold.
The money is not in Hawaii.
I stared at it.
My mother saw my face.
“What now?”
I showed her.
She read it.
“Where is it then?”
“That’s the question.”
A second message arrived.
I was going to put it back.
My fingers went numb.
That sentence did not sound like someone defending marital property.
It sounded like someone who knew it had been taken.
I saved both messages.
Then another came.
You cannot tell the company about the consulting payments until I explain.
My mother whispered, “Oh, Jesus.”
I did not answer.
Daniel called again.
This time I let it ring all the way through.
Thirty seconds later, a voicemail appeared.
I hesitated before playing it.
His voice came low and urgent.
“Claire, stop freezing me out and listen for once.”
There was noise behind him, a door shutting, then silence.
“The company made mistakes too.”
He breathed hard.
“I did not steal thirty-eight thousand dollars from Lily.”
A pause.
“I moved it temporarily because I needed to cover something.”
Another pause.
“You know how cash flow works.”
My mother gave a disgusted laugh.
Daniel continued.
“The consulting payments are complicated, and yes, your name is on some paperwork, but I can fix it.”
My pulse began to hammer.
“I need you not to talk to Brad or anyone else until I get home.”
His voice softened then.
The old voice.
The one he used when he wanted to turn an argument into concern.
“You’re exhausted.”
“You just had a baby.”
“Let me handle this.”
“Please.”
The voicemail ended.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Then my mother said, “Who is Brad?”
“The CFO.”
“You know him?”
“I met him twice.”
“Does Daniel know you know him?”
“Probably.”
I replayed the voicemail.
The second time, I listened differently.
Not as a wife.
As an analyst.
The company made mistakes too.
I needed to cover something.
Your name is on some paperwork.
I can fix it.
Each phrase contained distance from responsibility.
Each phrase suggested a larger structure.
Not one bad transfer.
Not one fake investor meeting.
Something ongoing.
My phone buzzed.
An email from Meredith.
Do not respond to Daniel.
I have contacted counsel for his employer and requested preservation of any records bearing your name.
We will discuss in the morning.
I read it twice.
Then I called Priya.
She answered from inside my house.
I could hear a cabinet closing.
“I have the documents.”
“Good.”
“There’s something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Your office safe was open when I got here.”
I sat very still.
“Open how?”
“Door pulled out maybe two inches.”
“I locked it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Could Daniel have the combination?”
“No.”
“Could he guess it?”
“No.”
Priya went silent.
“Claire, your external drive isn’t here.”
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
“What do you mean?”
“The tax drive you described.”
“It’s in the safe.”
“It isn’t.”
“Check the bottom.”
“I checked everything.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
The drive held seven years of financial records, including the original documentation for the software sale that funded most of Lily’s emergency account.
“When was Daniel last home?”
