Chương 10
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“You said Philippe couldn’t have children.”
“He couldn’t.”
“So who?”
“Nadine refused to say.”
Claire looked at me.
I could see the thought forming before she voiced it.
“Was it their father?”
Evelyn recoiled.
“No.”
“You don’t know.”
“I know enough.”
“How?”
“Because Philippe asked.”
Claire went still.
“He asked Nadine if their father was Roxane’s father?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She slapped him.”
Claire looked down at the table.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she asked, “Did he believe her?”
“He believed he had no right to force an answer.”
That sounded like Philippe.
Even in the few years I knew him, he had been a man who could sit with an uncomfortable silence until everyone else exhausted themselves trying to fill it.
Claire rubbed her eyes.
“So he paid Nadine because he felt guilty for leaving her.”
“Yes.”
“Every month?”
“Yes.”
“Until she died?”
“Yes.”
“Why hide that?”
Evelyn’s mouth tightened.
“Because Nadine did not want the family involved.”
“Which family?”
“Ours.”
Claire laughed again, but softer now.
“You mean you.”
Evelyn looked wounded.
“I was trying to keep stability.”
“You keep calling exclusion stability.”
Evelyn’s jaw tightened.
“And you keep calling my choices cruelty without having lived with what I lived with.”
Claire leaned forward.
“Then tell me what you lived with.”
Evelyn looked at her.
For a second, she seemed old in a way I had never seen before.
Not physically.
Defeated by the weight of having to explain herself to the child she had spent decades editing reality for.
“Nadine stole from us.”
Claire sat back.
“When?”
“After Roxane came to stay.”
“What did she steal?”
“Money.”
“How much?”
“Enough that Philippe had to borrow from Marc.”
Claire flinched at the name.
Evelyn noticed.
“She came into the house at night.”
“With Roxane there?”
“Yes.”
“She was using?”
“Yes.”
“She took jewelry, cash, a camera, anything she could sell.”
“And Roxane?”
“She woke up once and followed her downstairs.”
“What happened?”
“Nadine left without her.”
Claire stared.
“She abandoned her daughter in your house.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three days.”
Tessa shifted beside me.
Her hand found mine.
I looked down at her.
She was listening too carefully.
“Enough for tonight,” I said.
Claire turned on me.
“No.”
“Tessa is standing right here.”
“I know where she is.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You think I don’t know what today did to her?”
“I think you’re in the middle of finding out what your mother did to you, and you’re forgetting what you’re doing to our daughter.”
Silence.
Claire’s face went rigid.
The words had been cruel.
Necessary, maybe.
Still cruel.
Tessa pulled her hand from mine.
That hurt worse.
Claire looked at her.
“Tess.”
Tessa backed away.
“I’m tired.”
Claire stood.
“I’ll take you upstairs.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Claire stopped.
Tessa looked at me.
“Dad?”
I nodded.
“I’ve got you.”
I carried Mathis while Tessa walked beside me.
Neither of us spoke on the stairs.
In her room, she climbed onto the bed without changing.
I found clean pajamas on the chair and handed them to her.
She held them in her lap.
“Is Grandma bad?”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“No.”
She frowned.
“Mom said she lied.”
“She did.”
“So bad people lie.”
“Good people lie too.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t always.”
She looked down at the pajamas.
“Did Mom lie because she’s good?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
I took a breath.
“Because she was scared, and because she wanted to control what happened.”
“That sounds like Grandma.”
I looked at her.
Nine years old.
Already seeing patterns the adults had spent decades disguising.
“Yes.”
Her voice went quieter.
“Am I going to be like them?”
The question nearly broke me.
“No.”
She looked at me sharply.
“You said not to promise things.”
“You’re right.”
I corrected myself.
“You might lie someday.”
She stared.
I almost smiled.
“You probably will.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“It’s true.”
She thought about that.
“Will I leave a baby alone?”
“That part is easier.”
Her mouth twitched.
“No.”
Then she looked serious again.
“Did Mom forget us?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Then why didn’t she come back?”
Because some truths could not be softened without becoming lies.
“She made something else more important for too long.”
Tessa looked toward the hallway.
“That’s worse.”
I did not disagree.
Mathis was already half asleep against my chest.
I tucked Tessa under the blanket.
She finally changed into her pajamas under the covers because she was too tired to stand.
Before I left, she caught my sleeve.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If Mom cries, don’t yell at her.”
I looked at her.
“Okay.”
“She gets louder when people get loud.”
That sentence stayed with me all the way downstairs.
Claire was exactly where I had left her.
Evelyn was gone from the table.
I found her standing by the kitchen sink.
The back door was open.
For one stupid second, I thought she had run.
Then I saw her on the patio smoking a cigarette.
I had never seen Evelyn smoke.
Claire noticed my surprise.
“She quit when I was six.”
Evelyn heard her through the screen.
“I quit publicly.”
Claire gave a short laugh.
It was the first sound all evening that contained anything close to genuine humor.
“Of course you did.”
Evelyn looked almost embarrassed.
I closed the door.
“Where’s the box?”
Claire pointed to the table.
“I found something.”
She slid a folder toward me.
Inside was a copy of the old guardianship petition.
My name was typed beside Claire’s under the section identifying the child’s parents.
There were notes attached.
Some were handwritten by Evelyn.
Others were copies of emails from Claire.
I read one.
“Gabriel came home furious again.”
Another.
“He scared me tonight.”
Another.
“I don’t know whether I trust him alone with Tessa when he’s like this.”
I stopped.
Claire sat across from me.
May you like
“I don’t remember writing half of those.”
“But you did.”
