Chương 6
He scrolled.
His face tightened.
“Eleven.”
“Yesterday?”
“Since Saturday.”
Reyes held out a hand.
“May I see?”
Caleb gave him the phone after unlocking it.
Reyes looked through the call history without opening anything else.
“Did you answer every call?”
“No.”
“How many?”
“Maybe four.”
“Any messages?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t delete them.”
“I’m not going to.”
Reyes handed the phone back.
“Did she ever say she intended to take the child?”
“No.”
“Did she say Emily was unfit?”
Caleb looked at me.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Reyes’s tone remained even.
Caleb rubbed his palms over his sweatpants.
“She said Emily was having some kind of breakdown.”
Daniel’s face went completely still.
I felt something inside me do the same.
“What did she say?”
Caleb shook his head quickly.
“I didn’t believe her.”
“What did she say?”
“She said you hadn’t been sleeping.”
I stared at him.
“I have an eight-month-old.”
“I know.”
“She said you were paranoid.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“That’s rich.”
Caleb ignored him.
“She said you thought people were trying to interfere with your family.”
I almost laughed.
After what had happened that morning, the accusation felt grotesque.
“She said you were isolating Lily.”
“From Patricia.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Caleb recoiled.
I hated the satisfaction that gave me.
It was small and mean and immediate.
I let it stay anyway.
Reyes asked another question.
“Did Ms. Whitmore ask you for evidence that Emily was unstable?”
“No.”
“Did she ask about medication, doctors, anything like that?”
“No.”
“Did she mention custody?”
Caleb looked up.
“Once.”
Daniel swore again.
“What exactly did she say?”
Reyes asked.
“She said if Emily kept shutting family out, somebody might have to get a court involved.”
My fingers tightened on the blanket.
“She told you that and you still gave her our flight?”
Caleb’s face crumpled with frustration.
“She says insane stuff all the time.”
“So do you.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.”
He looked away.
That was part of the problem.
Patricia had spent years saying things that were too dramatic to take seriously.
My father used to call it her weather system.
You waited it out, cleaned up whatever broke, and pretended the forecast had never warned you.
When he was alive, he stood between Patricia and the rest of us more often than I had understood.
After he died, there was no one left translating her storms into something manageable.
Or maybe there had never been anything manageable about them.
A knock came at the door.
Another officer stepped in and spoke quietly to Reyes.
This time I heard the words envelope opened.
My breath caught.
Reyes asked for a minute, then left with him.
Daniel watched the doorway.
Caleb rubbed his face again.
“Emily.”
I did not answer.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I need you to know—”
“No, you need to feel better.”
He went silent.
The words surprised even me.
Daniel looked at me, then lowered his eyes.
Caleb sat back slowly.
I could see our father in the shape of his hands.
That made me angry too.
Dad had always told me to watch out for Caleb because I was older.
Not because Caleb was incapable.
Not because he was foolish.
Just because I was older.
Six years became a permanent assignment.
I had been doing it so long I had stopped noticing.
Lily shifted again and opened one eye.
Her mouth puckered.
I bounced her gently.
She made a soft complaint and closed her eye.
Caleb watched her.
His face folded.
“Is she okay?”
“The paramedic thinks so.”
“Can I—”
“No.”
I said it before he finished.
He nodded.
“Okay.”
The word sounded like he had expected it.
Reyes returned carrying a clear evidence sleeve.
Inside was a cream-colored envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Emily.
Nothing else.
The handwriting punched air out of my lungs.
My father made capital E’s with an exaggerated lower loop.
He had done it on birthday cards, grocery lists, checks, notes taped to the refrigerator.
The E on the envelope had that loop.
Daniel saw my reaction.
“That’s his?”
“I think so.”
Reyes did not hand it to me.
“We photographed and opened it in accordance with our evidence process.”
“What’s inside?”
“A handwritten letter.”
My heart began to hammer.
“By my father?”
“We can’t establish authorship just by looking at handwriting.”
“What does it say?”
Reyes hesitated.
“It refers to you, Patricia, and a family trust.”
Caleb looked up sharply.
“What trust?”
I stared at him.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel turned toward Reyes.
“Does it have anything to do with Lily?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to contract.
“How?”
Reyes looked at me.
“The letter says your father was concerned about how Patricia might behave if she believed she had been excluded from decisions involving future grandchildren.”
I could not process the sentence at first.
“What?”
“He specifically wrote that he did not want Patricia to have any legal authority over your children.”
Caleb whispered, “Jesus.”
Daniel’s mouth opened, then closed.
I stared at the envelope.
“Why would he write that?”
Reyes gave the smallest shake of his head.
“The letter may provide context, but it’s not something I want to interpret for you.”
“Can I read it?”
“Not this copy yet.”
“That is my name.”
“I understand.”
“My father wrote it to me.”
“I understand that too.”
Anger surged through me so quickly that my face went hot.
Reyes did not react defensively.
“We need to preserve what was found with Ms. Whitmore because it may be relevant to motive.”
Daniel touched my shoulder.
I shook him off.
“Does Patricia know what it says?”
“We don’t know.”
“She had it.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“We don’t know.”
I looked at Caleb.
He had gone pale.
“She told me it was something nice.”
No one answered him.
“She said Dad wanted Emily to forgive her.”
Daniel stared at him.
“That’s what she told you?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed it?”
May you like
Caleb’s mouth twisted.
“I believed Dad might have written something before he died.”
