Chương 10
Claire stood so quickly her chair struck the wall.
“For what?”
Ortiz kept her eyes on me.
“Harassment and unlawful recording allegations.”
My mouth went dry.
“What happened?”
“The case did not result in charges.”
“Why?”
“We’re still reviewing it.”
“Did Marlene know?”
Ortiz paused.
“We found something suggesting she did.”
“What?”
“A voicemail recovered from an old backup.”
I waited.
“It appears Marlene contacted Elena after the report.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
“What did she say?”
Ortiz’s face told me before her words did.
“She asked Elena what it would take to make the problem go away.”
I stared at Ortiz until the words arranged themselves into something I could understand.
“What did Elena say?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“You have the voicemail.”
“We have Marlene’s message.”
“Not Elena’s answer?”
“Not in that backup.”
Claire swore under her breath.
Ortiz ignored her.
“We’re trying to contact Elena now.”
I looked down at the hospital blanket.
The fabric had tiny blue diamonds printed across it.
I traced one with my thumb.
Four years ago, Daniel had already frightened another woman enough that she went to police.
Four years ago, Marlene had stepped in.
I had married him three years ago.
The arithmetic was simple.
The meaning was not.
“Did he tell me about her?”
Ortiz could not answer that.
I answered myself.
“No.”
Claire sat slowly.
“What was she to him?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Possibly.”
“Coworker?”
“Possibly.”
Claire made a frustrated sound.
Ortiz looked at her.
“I can give you guesses, or I can give you facts.”
“Facts would be nice.”
“So would more coffee.”
Claire blinked.
For half a second, the room almost became normal.
Then I said, “Did the report mention videos?”
Ortiz looked back at me.
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“What kind?”
“I haven’t read the complete report yet.”
“But enough to know.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Ortiz took a breath.
“She alleged Daniel recorded intimate and humiliating moments without her consent.”
Claire’s face changed.
I felt nothing at first.
That scared me more than anger would have.
My body had apparently reached a limit.
Then one thought arrived.
“He practiced.”
Ortiz did not react.
I looked at her.
“He practiced on somebody else.”
“We don’t know the full context yet.”
“He learned what he could get away with.”
“That is possible.”
“His mother helped him.”
“That appears possible too.”
Possible.
Possible.
The word started to sound obscene.
Claire stood again.
“Why was he never charged?”
Ortiz held up one hand.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I’m not going to invent an answer.”
Claire turned away.
Her shoulders were tight under the coat.
I knew that posture.
She wanted someone to fight.
I had seen it when our father died and the funeral home misplaced a document.
She had argued with a receptionist for forty minutes because grief needed an employee to blame.
“Sit down,” I said.
She looked at me.
“I am not a dog.”
“No, but you’re making me tired.”
That worked.
She sat.
Ortiz took a sip of coffee.
It had probably gone cold.
“Rachel, there’s something else you need to know.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course there is.”
“The folders appear to contain more than video files.”
“What else?”
“Messages.”
“Between who?”
“Daniel and users associated with the channel.”
My stomach tightened.
Dr. Feld had warned me that stress could make the contractions feel worse, which seemed like information designed by someone with a sense of humor.
“What kind of messages?”
“We’re still reviewing them.”
“Were they asking him to hurt me?”
Ortiz paused.
“Yes.”
Claire made a sound like she had been struck.
I did not.
I had already known.
Not because I had seen every message.
Because the cruelty changed too specifically.
One night they would make me stay silent.
The next they would force me to answer questions.
One day the food would be unbearably sweet.
Another day spoiled.
Sometimes Daniel would insist I look directly at his camera when I cried.
Those changes had never felt random.
“Did he answer them?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t think reading those messages to you right now is useful.”
“I decide useful.”
Ortiz’s eyes stayed on mine.
“You’re in a hospital bed having contractions.”
“And those messages are about me.”
“Yes.”
“Then I want to know.”
Claire said, “Maybe not all at once.”
I turned on her.
“Don’t.”
She lifted both hands.
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“You just did.”
“I said maybe.”
“That’s how people start.”
Her face fell.
I regretted it immediately.
Marlene had turned concern into a weapon so thoroughly that every caution sounded like control.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire looked toward the window.
“Fine.”
“It isn’t fine.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Ortiz waited until the silence settled.
Then she said, “One message appears to be from Daniel describing what happened after a session.”
My throat tightened.
“What did he write?”
“He said you vomited blood.”
The room disappeared for half a second.
I was back upstairs with the sour smell in my nose and Daniel swearing because some of it had gotten on the floor.
“What else?”
“He wrote that his mother wanted to stop for the night.”
I looked at Ortiz.
“Marlene wanted to stop?”
“That is what the message says.”
I hated the relief that tried to appear.
It was tiny and disgusting.
As if one moment of restraint could erase everything else.
“What did Daniel say?”
Ortiz’s mouth hardened.
“He said the viewers were paying for another clip.”
Claire stood again.
This time I let her.
She walked to the bathroom and shut the door.
I heard the lock click.
Ortiz said nothing.
I pressed both hands over my stomach.
The baby moved beneath them.
Strong enough that I felt the shape of a heel or elbow.
For months I had imagined Daniel as weak.
That had been easier.
Marlene dominated.
Daniel followed.
Marlene suggested.
May you like
Daniel obeyed.
It preserved something in my memory of the man I had married.
