Chương 5
Now only the green one remained.
She wrapped the pink toothbrush in a clean sandwich bag without touching the bristles.
Daniel leaned against the doorframe.
“I feel sick.”
Laura looked at him.
“Good.”
He flinched.
She immediately regretted it.
Not because it was untrue.
Because there were easier cruelties available to her now, and she did not want to become someone who used them simply because she could.
She set the bag on the counter.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
Daniel nodded.
“No. You should have.”
“Don’t do that either.”
“What?”
“Turn yourself into the guilty one so I have to reassure you.”
He looked away.
Laura folded her arms.
“Tell me the whole thing.”
They went downstairs.
Daniel made coffee at ten thirty at night because he did not know what else to do with his hands.
Laura drank water.
The cake remained on the table between them.
Daniel sat down.
“Three weeks ago Mom said she wanted proof.”
Laura waited.
“I told her no.”
“Then?”
“She brought up Dad. She said he had doubts. She said if there was even a possibility, I needed to know.”
“And you told her my possibility was zero.”
“I told her Sophie is mine.”
“That is not the same sentence.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
Laura waited.
Daniel stared into his coffee.
“She said if I was so certain, a test shouldn’t matter.”
Laura laughed once.
“That line works because men keep falling for it.”
“I know.”
“Apparently not.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I said no again.”
“What changed?”
“She said she was changing her estate plan.”
Laura stopped.
There it was.
Daniel looked ashamed.
“She said if I wouldn’t clear it up, she couldn’t responsibly include Sophie in the grandchildren’s trust.”
Laura stared at him.
“You took a paternity test for inheritance money.”
“No.”
“That is exactly what you just said.”
“I took it because I wanted her to stop treating Sophie differently.”
Laura stood and walked to the sink.
The dark window reflected her face over the backyard.
“You thought proving Sophie deserved money would make your mother love her.”
“It wasn’t about love.”
“That’s worse.”
“I was trying to protect her.”
Laura turned around.
“From what?”
Daniel opened his mouth.
She gestured toward the ceiling.
“Your mother locked a chain around her wrist and told her she didn’t belong in the family. Protect her from what?”
He stared at the table.
For the first time that day, Laura saw him stop trying to find a sentence that would save him.
“I failed,” he said.
The simplicity of it took some of the heat out of her.
Not the anger.
The need to fight every word.
Daniel continued.
“I thought if the result was what I knew it would be, Mom would have nowhere left to go.”
“She found somewhere.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Laura sat down again.
“Then that’s the question.”
Daniel looked up.
“She had the result yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“She did it anyway.”
“Yes.”
Laura looked at the note from the cake box.
FOR SOPHIE. LOVE, GRANDMA.
The handwriting was elegant and deliberate.
“She wasn’t confused,” Laura said.
Daniel’s eyes followed hers.
“No.”
“She wasn’t acting on the test.”
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The test was an excuse.”
“For what?”
Laura folded the note again.
“I don’t know yet.”
At 11:08, Daniel’s phone began vibrating on the counter.
MOM.
He let it ring.
A minute later it rang again.
Then Mark.
Then Daniel’s aunt Susan.
Then Mom again.
Laura said, “Answer her.”
Daniel looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear what she says before she has time to decide what happened.”
“She’s had hours.”
“Then I want to hear the version she picked.”
Daniel put the call on speaker.
Margaret answered immediately.
“Daniel.”
“Mom.”
“Is Sophie all right?”
Laura’s eyebrows lifted.
Daniel noticed.
“She’s sleeping.”
“I have been trying to reach you.”
“I know.”
Margaret paused.
“Is Laura there?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I would prefer to speak privately.”
Laura said, “I’m listening.”
Margaret inhaled.
“All right.”
Her voice became formal.
“I regret that Sophie became upset.”
Laura almost interrupted.
Daniel raised one hand.
He wanted to hear the rest.
Margaret continued.
“I did not intend for the conversation to happen as it did.”
Daniel said, “You put a chain around her wrist.”
“That is a grotesque way to describe it.”
“How would you describe it?”
“It was a piece of costume jewelry from the game. She was playing with it.”
Sophie had called it the gold chain.
Laura looked at Daniel.
He looked back.
First contradiction.
Margaret said, “The lock was already part of the activity.”
“Did you close it around her wrist?” Daniel asked.
A pause.
“For perhaps two seconds.”
“It left a mark.”
“She has sensitive skin.”
Laura gripped the edge of the table.
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Did you tell her I’m not her father?”
“I said there were unresolved questions.”
“You had the result.”
“Daniel—”
“You had the result.”
“Yes.”
“Then what was unresolved?”
Margaret went silent.
When she answered, the confidence had returned.
“The reliability of the sample.”
Daniel stared at the phone.
“What?”
“The sample was informal.”
“You arranged the test.”
“I arranged an initial test.”
“You told me it would settle the issue.”
“It raised additional concerns.”
Laura leaned closer.
“What additional concerns?”
Margaret did not answer her.
Daniel said, “Mom.”
“The chain of custody was not clinical.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“You used Sophie’s toothbrush.”
“You knew that.”
“I knew you had a toothbrush. I did not know where you got it.”
Margaret’s pause was very small.
Laura heard it anyway.
“It was available.”
“In our house?” Laura asked.
Margaret said, “I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember taking a seven-year-old’s toothbrush from my house?”
“I may have brought one home after she stayed with me.”
“She hasn’t stayed with you since Christmas.”
Margaret went quiet.
Laura and Daniel looked at each other.
Second contradiction.
May you like
Margaret said, “This is becoming hysterical.”
Laura felt almost calm.
