Chương 8
“Probably.”
He did not assume.
He turned it carefully.
“There may also be fibers.”
Reyes nodded.
“Bag everything.”
Daniel had cleaned the apartment, but he had not cleaned me.
The thought made my skin crawl.
It also gave me strength.
Around noon, Officer Reyes left to coordinate statements and warrants.
Before going, she gave me a card with a direct number.
“Do not call the precinct desk if Daniel contacts you.”
“Call you?”
“Yes.”
“What if it’s at night?”
“I regret to inform you that phones continue working after business hours.”
I almost smiled.
She pointed at Elias.
“And you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“No private investigators contacting witnesses who may be part of my case.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Marcus coughed.
Reyes looked at him.
“You were.”
“I was considering options.”
“Consider lunch.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“You don’t like private security.”
“I like evidence that survives court.”
That ended the discussion.
After she left, the penthouse became strangely quiet.
The twins slept.
The nurse changed my dressing.
Elias disappeared into another room for a call.
Marcus stood near the kitchen island eating yogurt directly from the container while reading something on a tablet.
For nearly ten minutes, nobody discussed Daniel.
I watched steam rise from a mug someone had placed beside me.
The tea tasted terrible.
I drank it anyway.
Marcus noticed.
“You hate it.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you drinking it?”
“I thought rich people had better tea.”
He looked offended.
“That is excellent tea.”
“It tastes like furniture.”
He stared at me for a second, then looked at the label.
“Bergamot.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
He put his yogurt down.
“You want coffee?”
The question felt so normal that my throat tightened.
“No.”
He misread my face.
“Tea is fine.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.”
He returned to the tablet.
I hated how quickly gratitude became shame inside me.
Daniel had taught me that accepting anything created debt.
A cup of coffee could become evidence that I was demanding.
A new pair of shoes could later prove I was ungrateful.
I looked at Marcus.
“Actually, yes.”
He glanced up.
“I want coffee.”
“How?”
“Milk.”
“Sugar?”
“Two.”
He opened a cabinet.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
It was ridiculous.
It was also the first thing I had asked for simply because I wanted it.
Elias returned while Marcus was making it.
He stopped when he saw me sitting at the kitchen island wrapped in one of his gray robes.
“Doctor said you could be out of bed?”
“No.”
The nurse called from the nursery.
“I said ten minutes.”
Elias looked toward the ceiling as if invoking patience from a higher authority.
“You have an unusual relationship with medical advice.”
“So does everybody after childbirth.”
Marcus slid a mug toward me.
“Two sugars.”
“Thank you.”
I took a sip.
It was too hot and slightly bitter.
It was wonderful.
Elias sat across from me.
He had changed clothes.
Dark sweater.
No jacket.
Without the suit, he looked less like the man from financial magazines.
He looked tired.
“Your attorney called,” he said.
I stared at him.
“My what?”
“The domestic violence advocate arranged legal aid.”
“Oh.”
“You have an appointment this afternoon by video.”
“I don’t have money.”
“You don’t need mine.”
Something in his tone told me he had anticipated that objection.
“Reyes asked for an advocate connected to a nonprofit legal service.”
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Neither of us knew what to say after that.
Marcus solved the problem by dropping a spoon.
It clattered loudly against the stone floor.
Grace woke and began screaming from the other room.
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Excellent.”
The nurse called, “You did it, you get her.”
He looked horrified.
“I absolutely do not.”
I laughed.
Elias did too.
It was brief, but I heard it.
Not the polite version wealthy people used at dinners.
Something real.
Then he stopped as though the sound had surprised him.
The nurse appeared carrying Grace.
“She’s not radioactive.”
Marcus backed away.
“I have held a baby.”
“When?”
“My sister’s son.”
“How old was he?”
“Four.”
“That’s not a baby.”
“It was to me.”
The nurse deposited Grace into Elias’s arms instead.
He accepted her without argument.
That surprised me.
He held her carefully, one large hand behind her head.
She screamed directly into his chest.
He looked at me.
“Is she supposed to do this?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Several years.”
Marcus laughed into his coffee.
Grace’s cry weakened into grumbling.
Elias shifted her slightly.
She settled.
His expression changed.
Not tenderness exactly.
Something more guarded.
I remembered what he had said about his sister.
I did not ask.
He noticed me looking and handed Grace to the nurse a little too quickly.
The moment closed.
My video call with the attorney began at two.
Her name was Naomi Chen.
She wore rectangular glasses and sat in an office so crowded with files that one stack leaned against a printer for support.
She did not look impressed when Elias introduced himself.
That immediately made me trust her more.
“Mr. Vance, I need to speak with Ava alone.”
He left.
No argument.
Naomi waited until the door shut.
“Is anyone listening?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That is not the same answer.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
Elias had security everywhere.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you move somewhere private?”
I took the tablet into the bathroom.
The nurse protested until I promised not to lock the door.
Naomi approved.
“Good.”
I sat on the closed toilet lid with the robe pulled around my knees.
“Tell me what you want.”
I frowned.
“Officer Reyes asked me that too.”
“You’re going to hear it a lot.”
“I’m not used to it.”
“We’ll practice.”
Her tone was dry, not comforting.
It helped.
“I want Daniel away from the girls.”
“Temporary or permanent?”
“Permanent.”
“Do you want a divorce?”
The answer should have been immediate.
It was not.
I hated myself for that.
May you like
Naomi noticed.
“You can take a second.”
