Chương 3
Her finger hovered there.
The last time she had called her mother about Gregory, she had minimized everything.
She had said they were having a rough patch.
She had laughed while saying it.
She remembered standing in the kitchen, washing a plate that was already clean because she did not know what else to do with her hands.
Her mother had asked if she was okay.
Alison had said yes too quickly.
She pressed call.
Her mother answered on the third ring.
"Alison?"
The relief in her voice was immediate.
"You never call during the morning."
Alison closed her eyes.
"I need help."
There was a pause.
Not panic.
Not questions.
Just a pause where her mother understood those three words were not casual.
"Are you and Abigail safe?"
Alison looked across the table.
Her daughter was watching her.
"Yes."
It was the first time that morning she had answered without uncertainty.
Her mother exhaled.
"Where are you?"
Alison told her.
"We'll come get you."
"We?"
"Your brother is here."
Alison almost laughed.
Her brother had always been terrible at comforting people.
He brought tools when someone needed emotional support.
He fixed broken drawers during arguments.
He replaced light bulbs when conversations became too difficult.
But somehow that was his way of saying he cared.
"Okay," she said.
After the call ended, Abigail touched the edge of her backpack.
"Is Uncle Daniel mad?"
"No."
"He always looks mad."
Alison smiled slightly.
"He looks like that when he's thinking."
"How can you tell?"
"I've known him since he was sixteen."
Abigail considered this.
"That was a long time ago."
"It was."
For a few minutes, they talked about nothing important.
They argued about whether a dog wearing shoes would look funny or sad.
Abigail insisted it would be funny.
Alison argued that the dog would probably hate them.
It was a small conversation.
A pointless conversation.
But Alison needed it.
She needed proof that her daughter was still an eight-year-old girl who cared about imaginary dogs and not just a child who had learned to monitor danger.
When her mother and brother arrived, Alison saw the concern on their faces before they reached the table.
Daniel hugged Abigail first.
He did not ask what happened.
He just held her for a moment.
Then he looked at Alison.
"What did he do?"
Alison almost answered with a list.
Instead, she handed him the phone.
Daniel read the message.
His expression changed slowly.
Not anger first.
Something quieter.
Disbelief.
"Did he have access to the house?"
Alison nodded.
"He lives there."
Daniel looked at her.
The question he did not ask was obvious.
Why did you let it get this far?
She saw it anyway.
That was the hardest part about family.
They could hurt you without saying anything.
"I didn't know how bad it was," Alison said.
Daniel looked down at the phone.
"I know."
His voice softened.
"But we need to know what happens next."
Alison took a breath.
For the first time all morning, she felt the weight of the practical problems waiting for her.
The house.
The documents.
The accounts.
The conversations she had avoided.
Leaving had felt like the hard part.
Now she understood leaving was only the first step.
Gregory would not simply accept losing control.
He would try to regain it somehow.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time it was a message from an unknown number.
She opened it.
The words were short.
You need to come home before you regret this.
Alison read it twice.
Daniel noticed her face.
"Is that him?"
She nodded.
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
A year ago, that message might have sent her back.
It might have made her apologize.
It might have made her search for a way to make him less upset.
But Abigail was sitting beside her.
And for once, Alison was not thinking about keeping the peace.
She was thinking about keeping her daughter safe.
She was thinking about keeping her daughter safe.
Daniel reached across the table and gently took the phone from Alison's hand.
"I don't like this," he said.
The sentence was simple, but Alison heard everything behind it.
Daniel was not the kind of person who filled silence with dramatic warnings.
He repaired things.
He showed up early.
He carried heavy furniture without asking for help and pretended his back did not hurt afterward.
When he said he did not like something, it usually meant he had already considered several worse possibilities.
"Can he track you?" he asked.
Alison looked at the screen.
"I don't know."
"Location sharing?"
"I turned it off months ago."
"Months?"
She looked down.
"I thought he was just being annoying."
Daniel did not respond immediately.
That silence was harder than anger.
Because she knew he was trying not to say the sentence both of them were thinking.
You should have noticed sooner.
"I should have told someone," Alison said.
Her mother, sitting beside Abigail, reached over and touched her arm.
"Alison."
The softness in her voice made Alison look up.
"Don't turn this into a trial against yourself."
"I ignored things."
"Yes."
The honesty surprised her.
Her mother continued.
"And now you are not ignoring them."
Alison looked away.
She wanted comfort, but she also wanted someone to admit that she had made mistakes.
Both things could be true.
That was something she had spent years avoiding.
She had always treated mistakes as evidence that she was failing.
Not as evidence that she was human.
Daniel handed the phone back.
"We need to document everything."
The practical tone helped.
It gave Alison something to hold onto.
"What does that mean?"
"It means screenshots."
He pointed toward the message.
"Save everything. Don't delete anything. Don't respond when you're angry."
"I wasn't going to."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
Alison gave a tired smile.
"Okay, maybe I was."
"That's what I mean."
May you like
He sat back.
"You don't need to win a conversation with him. You need to protect yourself."
