Chương 3
She did not remember Lily standing at the top of the stairs.
“Did you see that happen?” Patel asked.
Lily nodded.
“Did your dad see you?”
“I went back to bed.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
Officer Patel did not ask more. She requested permission for medical personnel to examine Lily. Claire agreed.
A paramedic checked the girl’s cheek in the conference room. There was redness but no swelling, no broken skin, no sign of serious injury. He recommended monitoring for headache, dizziness, nausea, or unusual sleepiness. Lily listened carefully and asked whether she could still brush her teeth.
“Yes,” he said. “You should definitely brush your teeth.”
She seemed relieved.
Officer Patel told Claire that child protective services would probably be notified because the reported aggressor was Lily’s father. She also explained that Claire’s slap could be documented as a separate assault.
“I understand.”
Celia, who had been allowed into the room after the paramedic left, made a quiet sound of disbelief.
“You understand?” she said. “Claire, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I’m answering the officer.”
“You were protecting your child.”
“I had already protected her when I hit him.”
Celia looked toward Officer Patel. “She was in shock.”
“That may be relevant,” Patel said. “It does not erase the action.”
Claire appreciated the bluntness, even though it made her stomach turn.
Lily leaned against her arm. “Are you going to jail?”
“No,” Claire said too quickly.
Officer Patel rested her pen on the table. “Your mom is here with you. No one is taking her anywhere tonight.”
Tonight.
Lily heard the word. Claire could tell from the way her small shoulders rose.
Evelyn appeared in the doorway. “Marcus is at my apartment.”
Celia closed her eyes.
“He called you?” Claire asked.
“He drove there. I wasn’t home. My doorman let him up.”
“Of course he did.”
“He says he wants to speak to the police.”
Officer Patel stood. “Give the address to Officer Flynn.”
Evelyn glanced at Lily and then at the card.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
Lily shook her head.
Evelyn stayed in the doorway. “I’m sorry.”
Lily’s fingers tightened around Claire’s hand.
“For what?” Claire asked.
Evelyn looked at her brother’s daughter, not at Claire.
“For not being surprised.”
The video appeared online before Claire and Lily reached home.
Claire’s phone began vibrating in her evening bag as they drove across the city. She ignored it until the seventh consecutive call. At a red light, she took the phone out and saw thirty-two messages, six missed calls, and a notification from a local news account.
A still image showed Marcus kneeling on the marble floor.
The caption read: REED DEVELOPMENT EXECUTIVE IN VIOLENT FAMILY INCIDENT AT LUXURY HOTEL.
Claire turned the phone facedown.
Lily sat in the back seat with the ice cloth against her cheek and the cardigan buttoned wrong, the top button pushed through the second hole. She watched lights pass across the window.
“Is Dad in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“Are you?”
“Maybe.”
Lily thought about that. “Because you hit him.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Claire looked at her through the rearview mirror.
Lily’s face was pale beneath the shifting streetlights. There was no satisfaction in her expression.
“I mean good that you told,” she said. “Not good that you hit.”
Claire’s eyes burned.
“That’s right,” she said. “It wasn’t good that I hit him.”
“But he hit me first.”
“That doesn’t make my part good.”
Lily lowered the ice. “It made me feel better.”
The light changed. A horn sounded behind them.
Claire drove.
At home, she locked the front door and checked the alarm twice. Their townhouse was narrow, old, and slightly crooked, with radiators that knocked in winter and a kitchen drawer that never closed unless lifted at one corner. Marcus had hated it when they bought it. He said the floors sloped and the closets were useless. Claire had loved the small garden and the morning light in the back bedroom.
After the divorce, he kept the glass house in the suburbs. She kept the place he called impractical.
Lily went upstairs to change. Claire remained in the kitchen, still wearing her black satin dress and pearl earrings. The refrigerator hummed. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed.
Her phone lit up again.
MARCUS.
She let it ring.
A voicemail appeared thirty seconds later. Then another call came from Evelyn.
Claire answered.
“I’m not asking you to talk to him,” Evelyn said immediately.
“Good.”
“The police are here. He gave a statement.”
“What did he say?”
“That he hit her.”
Claire leaned against the counter.
“He admitted it?”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
“He said you slapped him.”
“I did.”
There was a pause. Evelyn’s apartment had bad acoustics; Claire could hear voices in the background and what sounded like a cabinet closing.
“He also said the card provoked him,” Evelyn said.
Claire closed her eyes. “She is seven.”
“I know.”
“What was inside it?”
“You didn’t read it?”
“No.”
“Marcus did. Before he hit her.”
Claire pictured the card falling. She had assumed he struck Lily at the moment she offered it, but there had been a pause. His eyes had gone down. His mouth had tightened. Then his hand moved.
“What did it say?”
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me.”
Lily appeared in the kitchen wearing cotton pajamas printed with tiny moons. Her cheek remained faintly red. She held the card in one hand.
“I’m going to go,” Claire said.
“Call me before you answer anyone from the company,” Evelyn said.
“The company has nothing to do with Lily.”
“It will by morning.”
Claire ended the call.
Lily climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island. She placed the card in front of herself but kept one hand over it.
“Do you want me to read it?” Claire asked.
“No.”
“All right.”
“I want to ask something first.”
May you like
Claire pulled out the stool beside her. The satin dress made a soft sound against the wood as she sat.
Lily studied the card. “Did he hit me because it was bad?”
