Chương 6
“The truth.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Even that you knew he was angry beforehand?”
“Yes.”
Ethan listened to her breathing.
Then he said, “Okay.”
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
He almost answered automatically.
It’s okay.
But it wasn’t.
So he said, “I know.”
The next morning, Noah did not bring the soccer ball when they left for Lauren’s house.
Ethan did not ask about it.
Lauren met them outside in sweatpants and an old college T-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a loose knot. The cat watched from the front window.
Noah ran past her into the house.
Lauren looked at Ethan.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Not really.”
“Police again?”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“What happened?”
He told her about Margaret.
Lauren listened.
When he finished, she said, “I don’t want Noah around Ryan.”
“He won’t be.”
“I mean at all.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Family dinners. Holidays. Whatever.”
“He won’t be.”
“And if your mother pushes—”
“She won’t.”
Lauren studied him.
“You sure?”
“No.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I’ll handle it.”
She glanced toward the house.
“Noah asked me last night if people go to jail for protecting someone.”
Ethan looked down.
“He asked me too.”
“What did you say?”
“That protecting someone doesn’t mean you can do anything you want.”
Lauren nodded.
“He said you pushed Ryan because Ryan had the poker.”
“He did.”
“He also said you were walking toward Ryan before that.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Lauren raised a hand.
“I’m not accusing you.”
“Feels familiar.”
“I’m trying to understand what he saw.”
“I told you.”
“You told me what happened.”
“That’s usually how understanding works.”
“Not with kids.”
He looked away.
A delivery truck groaned down the street and stopped three houses over.
Lauren said, “He’s scared you’re going to disappear.”
Ethan turned back.
“What?”
“He thinks the police might take you.”
“They’re not going to.”
“You don’t know that.”
He felt anger rise again.
“Can everybody stop saying that to me?”
“Then stop saying things you can’t promise.”
They stood quietly.
He hated that she was right.
Lauren’s expression softened.
“Come inside.”
“I should go.”
“Ethan.”
“I’ve got stuff to do.”
“Like what?”
He almost said work.
It was Saturday.
Lauren waited.
He gave up.
“Nothing.”
“Come inside.”
She made coffee.
They sat at the kitchen table where they had once argued about daycare costs, mortgage refinancing, her mother staying too long at Christmas, and whether Ethan’s silence during arguments was restraint or punishment.
Their divorce had not been spectacular.
That had somehow made it sadder.
They had worn each other down carefully.
Lauren slid a mug toward him.
“You still take it black?”
“Yes.”
“You used to hate black coffee.”
“I got old.”
“You’re thirty-nine.”
“Exactly.”
She rolled her eyes.
For a few minutes they talked about Noah’s spelling test.
It felt almost obscene to discuss ordinary things.
Then Lauren said, “What does Ryan want?”
“I don’t know.”
“He called police.”
“I don’t know if he did. Someone else might have.”
“He gave a statement.”
“Yes.”
“So what now?”
“I’m calling a lawyer Monday.”
“Good.”
“I hate that sentence.”
“Everybody hates that sentence.”
He stared into the coffee.
Lauren said, “Did Megan send you the video?”
“No.”
“Ask her.”
“Officer Daniels told me not to assume anything about it.”
“That doesn’t mean don’t watch it.”
“I know.”
He took out his phone.
There were two messages from Megan.
One said:
I have the video. I haven’t sent it to anyone.
The second:
Ryan texted asking for it. I said no.
Ethan wrote:
Can you send me the original file? Please don’t edit it.
The reply came less than a minute later.
Yes.
The video was forty-one seconds long.
Ethan and Lauren watched it together.
It began too late.
The soccer ball was already on the grass.
Noah was crouched beside it.
Ryan’s threat was missing.
The clip opened with Margaret saying, “Ethan, don’t.”
Then Ethan’s voice:
“I’m not the one he should be afraid of.”
Lauren stopped the video.
“Oh.”
Ethan stared at the screen.
“Keep going.”
She did.
Ryan said it was a joke.
Ethan walked toward him.
The angle was partly blocked by Brad.
Ryan backed up.
His hand went down.
For one critical second, the poker was hidden by the grill.
Then Ethan moved.
Ryan’s arm jerked.
The metal scraped.
Ethan shoved him.
Ryan fell.
The poker appeared in Ethan’s hand.
From the phone’s angle, it was difficult to tell who had first grabbed it.
Then Ethan’s final words.
You threatened my son over a car. Now explain that to everyone.
The video ended.
Lauren set the phone on the table.
“That’s bad.”
“He grabbed it.”
“I believe you.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“No.”
Ethan stood and walked to the counter.
“The first part isn’t there.”
“I know.”
“It doesn’t show what he did.”
“I know.”
“It shows me threatening him.”
Lauren said, “It shows you saying something that sounds threatening.”
He turned.
“You want to keep correcting me, or do you want to help?”
Her expression hardened.
“There you are.”
“What does that mean?”
“That thing you do.”
“What thing?”
“You get scared, then you get mean.”
He laughed.
“I’m not scared.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then he sat down.
“Fine.”
The word came out flat.
“I’m scared.”
Lauren nodded.
“Me too.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“If this video gets out—”
“It might.”
“My job—”
“Do they care?”
“I manage crews. Safety complaints. Conflict reports. I’ve written guys up for fighting.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No, but the internet is famous for nuance.”
Lauren looked at the phone.
“Has Ryan posted anything?”
“Not that I know.”
“Don’t look.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll respond.”
“I won’t.”
“You absolutely will.”
“I’m not twelve.”
“No. At twelve you had better impulse control.”
He almost smiled.
Then his phone rang.
Margaret.
He answered.
“Hey.”
Her voice was tight.
“Ryan came over.”
Ethan stood.
“To your house?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
May you like
“He’s here.”
Lauren heard enough to come around the table.
