Chương 4
Solomon entered carrying his laptop bag and stopped when he saw him.
“Hey, Frank.”
Dad looked up.
“Sol.”
There was nothing openly hostile in his voice.
That was almost impressive.
“What brings you over?”
“Chicken.”
Solomon laughed.
“Fair enough.”
He kissed my cheek.
I stood still for half a second too long.
His eyes flicked toward mine.
“Everything okay?”
“Long day.”
“Tell me about it.”
He dropped his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door.
I watched the keys settle among mine.
The sound seemed louder than it should have.
Dinner was unbearable in the most ordinary way.
Theo complained that carrots tasted orange.
Dad argued that orange was not a taste.
Solomon told a story about a copywriter who had accidentally sent a client an internal presentation containing the phrase “please stop changing the logo.”
I laughed once.
Then hated myself for laughing.
Then hated him for still being funny.
After dinner, Dad offered to take Theo for ice cream.
I nearly said no because the word ice cream now belonged to Charlotte in my mind.
Then Theo shouted, “Chocolate chip,” and I said yes.
When the front door closed behind them, Solomon began stacking plates.
“You’re quiet tonight.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’ve said that twice.”
“So maybe I’m very tired.”
He glanced at me.
There was a small delay before he smiled.
“Okay.”
He turned on the faucet.
I watched him rinse sauce from Theo’s plate.
His wedding band flashed under the kitchen light.
For years, that ring had been evidence of something.
Now it was just metal.
“You said you’re working late tomorrow,” I said.
“Probably.”
“With Jennifer.”
He set the plate in the dishwasher.
“Yeah.”
“What are you working on?”
“The Dalton pitch.”
“What’s Dalton?”
“A regional grocery chain.”
The answer came instantly.
Too instantly, maybe.
Or maybe I had reached the stage where even fluency looked suspicious.
“You’ve never mentioned them.”
“I’ve mentioned them like four times.”
“No, you haven’t.”
He turned off the faucet.
“I’m pretty sure I have.”
I shrugged.
“Maybe I forgot.”
He studied me for a moment.
Then he dried his hands on a dish towel and walked toward me.
His hands settled on my hips.
My entire body wanted to move away.
I made myself stay.
“You sure you’re okay?”
He kissed the side of my neck.
The familiarity of it nearly broke me.
I thought of Jennifer in my white robe.
I thought of Theo standing in the doorway.
I thought of Charlotte leading him downstairs afterward, probably telling him that silence was kindness.
“I said I’m tired.”
Solomon leaned back.
“All right.”
Something in my tone had reached him.
He did not push.
That told me he was cautious.
It also told me I had probably been less convincing than I thought.
That night, I waited until his breathing deepened before getting out of bed.
I carried my phone into the bathroom and shut the door without turning on the light.
The photographs from his secondary phone were still there.
I uploaded copies to a private cloud folder, emailed copies to an account he did not know I had, and sent another set to my father.
Then I opened the security app.
The system allowed administrator changes only through my father’s account because he had installed it before Solomon and I moved in.
I texted Dad.
Are you awake?
His reply came thirty seconds later.
Unfortunately.
Can the hallway panel disable the cloud recording entirely?
Depends on settings.
I watched the dots appear.
Why?
Because tomorrow they’ll turn it off again.
Another pause.
Then:
Call me.
I did.
His voice was low.
“You’re planning to stay.”
“I’m planning to know.”
“There’s a difference between gathering information and putting yourself in a confrontation.”
“I’m not confronting anyone.”
“What exactly are you doing?”
I sat on the closed toilet lid.
“I’ll pick Theo up early and take him somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“Your house.”
“Good.”
“Then I’ll come back.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
“It’s my home.”
“It’s my home technically, which gives me the privilege of telling you this is a bad idea.”
“I need to see what happens.”
“You already know what happens.”
“No.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
“I know what Theo saw once.”
Silence.
“I know Jennifer is planning to come tomorrow.”
More silence.
“I know Charlotte is helping.”
I pressed my fingertips against my forehead.
“But I don’t know how long this has been happening, what they’ve told each other, or why Charlotte is involved this deeply.”
“You’re not going to get a neat explanation by hiding in a closet.”
“I’m not hiding in a closet.”
“What are you doing?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“That sentence has never reassured a father.”
I almost smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“Can you make the cameras keep recording even if the hallway panel looks like they’re off?”
Dad exhaled.
“I can disable local control of the cloud account.”
“Would Solomon know?”
“Not unless he checks administrator permissions.”
“Can you do it?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
He was quiet for several seconds.
“All right.”
My throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
The next morning was so normal that I nearly became angry at the toaster.
Theo spilled milk.
Solomon could not find his blue tie.
I found it hanging exactly where he had left it and resisted the childish urge to hide it.
At 7:11, he kissed Theo on the head.
At 7:12, he kissed me beside the refrigerator.
At 7:13, he walked out carrying coffee in the travel mug I had bought him for Father’s Day.
I watched through the window until his car disappeared.
At 8:04, I drove Theo to school.
At 8:31, I called my office and said I would work remotely after lunch.
At 9:16, my father texted:
Panel permissions changed.
Cloud recording stays active.
I replied with a heart.
He sent back:
Don’t get sentimental.
At noon, I drove home.
The house felt different when I entered.
Not haunted.
Not ominous.
May you like
Just disputed.
I walked room by room without quite knowing why.
