Chương 6
I looked down at Leo.
“I won’t.”
But after I ended the call, I knew there was a part of me that wanted to know.
Not because Dominic deserved my attention.
Because uncertainty was its own kind of prison.
By noon, my father called.
“You sound tired.”
“I have a newborn.”
“That is not what I meant.”
I smiled faintly.
“You always hear everything.”
“It’s a habit.”
“An annoying one.”
“Also a habit.”
For a moment, we were quiet.
The kind of quiet only family could survive.
Then I told him about Dominic’s message.
Dad did not react immediately.
That worried me more than anger would have.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m thinking.”
“That usually means something serious.”
“It means I am trying not to interfere.”
I leaned back.
“You’re allowed to interfere a little.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“I’m allowed to support you.”
The difference mattered.
I had spent my whole life knowing my father could open doors.
What I had not always understood was how carefully he chose not to.
“He knows something,” Dad said.
“Maybe.”
“No.”
A pause.
“Your husband has a pattern.”
I looked down.
“You noticed?”
“Audrey.”
The disappointment in his voice was not directed at me.
It was directed at the situation.
“People tell you who they are in small moments.”
I remembered the bus.
The diaper bag.
The twelve dollars.
Small moments.
That was the problem.
The biggest wounds often came from things people later called insignificant.
“I don’t want you to destroy him,” I said.
My father was quiet.
“Do you think that is what I want?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He sighed.
“I spent my career dealing with people who believed power meant they could avoid consequences.”
I listened.
“But consequences are not revenge.”
I closed my eyes.
That sentence stayed with me.
Later that afternoon, Rachel sent the access records.
There were three entries connected to the garage.
Mine.
Dominic’s.
And Victoria’s.
The dates were normal.
Until one caught my attention.
Two days before Leo was born.
I stared at the timestamp.
“Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“Why was Victoria in the garage two days before my delivery?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I scrolled through the information.
“Dominic told me she was out of town.”
Another silence.
This one was different.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I remembered the conversation.
Victoria had called me while I was eight months pregnant.
She had complained about traveling.
She had said she would not be able to visit until after the baby arrived.
At the time, I had not questioned it.
Why would I?
I had spent so much energy trying to believe people.
Rachel spoke carefully.
“Do you have any reason to think she was looking for something?”
“No.”
But even as I said it, I remembered something.
A small moment.
Something I had ignored.
Victoria standing in our apartment kitchen.
Opening a drawer.
Asking where I kept important documents.
I had laughed.
I thought she was being curious.
Now I was not so sure.
“What documents?” Rachel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
I closed my eyes.
The memory returned slowly.
“The vehicle paperwork.”
“Why would she ask about that?”
“I don’t know.”
Another piece.
Not enough to prove anything.
But enough to make me uncomfortable.
That evening, Dominic called.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“What did you find?”
There was a pause.
Not the pause of someone preparing an apology.
The pause of someone deciding how much information to reveal.
“I found documents.”
“What documents?”
“In the SUV.”
“Dominic.”
He exhaled.
“You kept copies of things.”
My stomach tightened.
“What things?”
“Financial records.”
I sat down.
“What kind of financial records?”
“I don’t know.”
His voice changed.
“They were in a folder.”
A folder.
I looked toward the desk where Rachel had left copies of my own documents.
“Where is the folder now?”
Another pause.
“Dominic.”
“I have it.”
The answer came too quickly.
“You have it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to understand what was going on.”
I stood up.
“You went through my belongings?”
“It was in my vehicle.”
“No.”
My voice became sharper.
“It was in my vehicle.”
Silence.
Then he said something I did not expect.
“I didn’t know.”
The honesty stopped me.
“What?”
“I didn’t know it was yours.”
I sat back down.
For the first time, Dominic sounded confused instead of defensive.
“What exactly did you find?”
“I found statements.”
A pause.
“Accounts.”
My heart started beating faster.
“What accounts?”
“I don’t know.”
“You called me to say you found something that changes everything, but you don’t know what you found?”
“I was angry.”
The admission surprised me.
“I saw paperwork with your name and numbers I didn’t recognize.”
“And?”
“And I thought you had been hiding things from me.”
I looked around the room.
At the temporary apartment.
At my son.
At the life I had been rebuilding one small piece at a time.
“You accused me of hiding things?”
“I didn’t accuse you.”
“You implied it.”
“I was confused.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
The same pattern.
Something happened.
Dominic felt uncomfortable.
The discomfort became my problem.
“Where is the folder now?”
“I have it.”
“Bring it to Rachel.”
“What?”
“If there is something in my name, my attorney can review it.”
“Audrey—”
“No.”
My voice was calm.
That surprised both of us.
“You do not get to use something private to pull me back into a conversation you control.”
He became quiet.
Then, softly, he said, “You really are done.”
I looked at Leo.
At the tiny person who had changed every decision I made.
“Yes.”
The answer was not angry.
It was not dramatic.
It was simply true.
After the call ended, another message arrived.
Not from Dominic.
From Rachel.
I reviewed the documents you mentioned.
There is something you need to see.
I read Rachel’s message three times before opening the attachment.
My hand hovered over the screen.
May you like
A part of me wanted to delay it.
Not because I was afraid of the truth.
