Chương 8
Then she placed a small paper bag on the table.
“I brought something.”
Eli opened it.
Inside was a new set of colored pencils in a metal case, arranged by shade.
His hands withdrew.
“I thought you’d like them,” Laura said.
Eli looked at Mara.
Laura saw.
“They’re just pencils.”
“He doesn’t want them,” Mara said.
“I asked him.”
“You looked at me,” Mara told Eli.
He folded his arms.
Laura closed the lid. “Fine.”
The word carried more hurt than anger.
They ate in silence. The sandwiches were turkey with too much mustard, the way Daniel liked them. Mara wondered whether Laura had made his lunch that morning out of habit and then remembered he was not home.
After Eli went to the restroom with Simone, Laura leaned toward Mara.
“Your father’s attorney says the recording makes things difficult.”
Mara stared at her.
“I’m not asking you to change anything.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because I don’t want you hearing it from strangers.”
“You’re not supposed to talk about the case.”
“I’m your mother.”
“That doesn’t answer anything anymore.”
Laura’s eyes moved toward the door. “He may accept an agreement.”
“What agreement?”
“I don’t know details.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“No.”
“Did Mark?”
Laura’s jaw tightened. “Mark speaks to his brother. That is not illegal.”
“Did Mark tell you?”
Laura did not answer.
Mara pushed her sandwich away. “You’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Being the hallway.”
Laura frowned.
“You stand between him and everything else. Messages go through you. Excuses go through you. We can’t see what he’s doing because you keep standing there.”
Laura’s face lost color.
“I have kept this family functioning for fifteen years.”
“No. You kept it quiet.”
Simone returned with Eli before Laura could respond.
The visit ended early.
In June, the school year finished. Mara passed history with a grade low enough to irritate her and high enough to avoid summer classes. She continued soccer but stopped staying after practice. Parking lots made her uneasy now.
Eli began seeing a therapist named Dr. Patel, who kept a jar of smooth stones on her desk and did not force him to talk while he arranged them into lines. He developed stomachaches on Sunday evenings, though school was out. He stopped sleeping with the hallway light on only after Claire replaced the bulb with a dim amber one.
June complained that Eli touched her things, then felt guilty and gave him a comic book. The next day she demanded it back. Their arguments became one of the few ordinary sounds in the house.
Claire worked four days a week and picked up an extra Saturday shift because groceries, gas, and school supplies had become more expensive. A temporary assistance payment was approved, delayed, then corrected after Claire spent two hours on the phone. She swore quietly while stirring spaghetti sauce.
Mara took a summer job shelving books at the public library.
The job gave her rows to straighten and labels to check. Books did not deny where they belonged. They were either in the correct place or they were not.
Tessa visited twice. The first time, she brought iced coffee and talked too much about a boy from chemistry. The second time, she asked whether Mara’s father was going to jail.
“I don’t know.”
“Does he deserve to?”
Mara placed a returned mystery novel on the cart. “That’s not a normal question.”
“I know.”
“Then why ask it?”
“Because everyone else is pretending not to.”
Mara looked through the library’s glass wall. A little boy sat cross-legged in the children’s section while his father read aloud from a book about trucks. The father used different voices. The boy laughed so hard he fell sideways.
“I don’t know what he deserves,” Mara said. “I know what we deserve.”
“What?”
“To not have to guess whether he’s safe.”
Tessa nodded slowly. “That sounds like an answer.”
“It isn’t.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be the same question.”
Mara hated when Tessa accidentally said useful things.
The central family meeting took place at the end of June. Simone, Evelyn, Laura’s attorney, Daniel’s attorney, and a family court representative attended. Mara and Eli were in separate rooms for part of it. Claire sat beside Mara, tapping one thumb against the edge of her notebook.
Daniel appeared by video from his attorney’s office.
It was the first time Mara had seen him since the arrest.
He wore a pale blue button-down shirt and had shaved. His face looked thinner. The background behind him was a blank gray wall. He glanced toward the camera, then away, as if eye contact through a screen still required preparation.
Mara’s body reacted before her mind did. Her shoulders tightened. Her foot moved backward beneath the chair.
Claire placed one hand palm-up on the table between them. Mara did not take it, but she was glad it was there.
The attorneys discussed temporary arrangements in careful language. Daniel wanted supervised contact with the children. The agency opposed it for the time being, citing the children’s fear, Daniel’s limited acknowledgment of harm, and the attempted communication through Mark.
Daniel’s attorney said Mark had acted independently.
Evelyn said the recorded conversation at the school suggested otherwise.
Daniel interrupted. “Can I speak?”
His attorney leaned toward him off-screen.
“I want my kids to know I’m sorry they got scared.”
Mara felt Claire’s hand close into a fist.
Simone said, “Mr. Bennett, are you sorry for your actions?”
“I’m sorry the situation escalated.”
“That is not the question.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “I should not have taken off the belt.”
“Why did you?”
“I was angry.”
“What did you intend to do?”
“Make a point.”
“To an eight-year-old?”
“He was being disrespectful.”
Mara leaned forward. “He drew a picture.”
Her attorney—appointed to represent her interests in the family proceedings—touched her arm, but she continued.
“You ripped it.”
Daniel looked directly at the camera.
“Mara, there were things happening before you entered.”
May you like
“Like what?”
“You weren’t there.”
