Chương 3
Lauren saved the voicemail.
Then she called the attorney whose number was still pinned near the top of her contacts from her father’s estate.
Janet Cho answered on the fourth ring.
“Lauren?”
“Hi.”
“It’s been a while.”
“I know.”
There was a pause.
“What happened?”
Lauren looked at Sophie, who was trying to put a hotel notepad under her bare foot.
“I found something of my dad’s.”
“What kind of something?”
“A property card.”
Janet did not respond immediately.
“What property?”
Lauren read the line.
“Eleven Westbridge Holdings. Unit 48A.”
Silence.
Lauren sat straighter.
“Janet?”
“Where did you get that?”
“In my mother-in-law’s jewelry box.”
Another silence.
This one was different.
“Lauren,” Janet said, “do you have the card with you?”
“Yes.”
“Take pictures of both sides.”
Lauren did.
“And there’s a key.”
“What kind?”
“Old brass. Number six-one-four.”
“Does it have a bank name?”
Lauren turned it beneath the bedside lamp.
There were letters along one edge she had missed.
BNC.
“I think BNC.”
Janet exhaled slowly.
“Okay.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to guess.”
“My mother-in-law just told my daughter she’s spending her last birthday in my mother-in-law’s house, and then this fell out of a box beside the cake. I’m past being comforted by careful language.”
“I’m not trying to comfort you. I’m trying not to tell you something that could be wrong.”
That sounded so much like Evan that Lauren nearly hung up.
Instead she rubbed her forehead.
“Fine.”
Janet said, “I need an hour.”
“To do what?”
“To pull the Reed trust files and check public property records. Don’t confront anyone with conclusions yet.”
“Already did.”
“What did you say?”
Lauren looked out at the office building across the street.
“That the house was never Diane’s.”
Janet was quiet.
“That was a conclusion.”
“I’m aware.”
“Do you still have the key?”
“Yes.”
“Keep it somewhere safe. Take photographs. Don’t alter the card. Don’t write on it. And don’t go back to the apartment tonight.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
“Lauren.”
“What?”
“If Diane asks for the key, don’t argue about ownership. Tell her your lawyer is reviewing it.”
“My lawyer?”
“For the next hour, apparently.”
Lauren almost smiled.
“Thank you.”
After the call, she ordered macaroni and cheese for Sophie and a turkey sandwich for herself.
Sophie ate six noodles and half a strawberry.
Lauren ate nothing.
At 6:17, Michael appeared at the door.
He knocked instead of texting.
Lauren saw him through the peephole.
He looked exhausted.
He was still wearing his pale blue button-down shirt and charcoal trousers. His black wristwatch had slid slightly down his wrist, something Lauren had always fixed for him without thinking.
She did not open the door.
He knocked again.
“Lauren.”
Sophie looked up from the carpet.
“Daddy.”
Lauren’s hand stayed on the latch.
Michael lowered his voice.
“I brought her shoes.”
That was so stupidly practical that Lauren opened the door.
He stood holding the diaper bag, Sophie’s sneakers, the stuffed rabbit, and a grocery bag.
He did not step inside.
“I brought pajamas.”
Lauren looked at the grocery bag.
“And bananas. She was asking for bananas before…”
His voice stopped.
Before your mother crushed her birthday cake.
Before you did nothing.
Lauren moved aside.
Michael came in.
Sophie ran to him in her socks.
He crouched and hugged her.
For several seconds Lauren hated him most while watching how tenderly he held their daughter.
People would be easier to leave if they were bad in only one direction.
Sophie pulled away.
“Gamma broke cake.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“I know, bug.”
“Crown broke.”
“I know.”
Sophie touched his cheek.
“Daddy no fix.”
Lauren looked away.
Michael did not.
“No,” he said. “Daddy didn’t fix it.”
The admission was small.
It did not repair anything.
But Lauren heard the effort it cost him.
Sophie lost interest and ran back to the television.
Michael stood slowly.
“Can we talk?”
Lauren crossed her arms.
“You can.”
He glanced toward Sophie.
“Not in front of her.”
“Your mother didn’t have that concern.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Lauren gave him a look.
Michael’s shoulders dropped.
“No. Maybe I don’t. I’m trying to.”
His phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen and silenced it.
Lauren knew who it was.
“Did you tell her where we are?”
“No.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He sat in the armchair but remained perched near the edge.
“Mom says you stole the key.”
“Of course she does.”
“She says it’s from an old lockbox Dad had.”
“Which dad?”
Michael frowned.
“Mine.”
“My father’s handwriting is on the card.”
“She says your dad and mine had business together years ago.”
“They did.”
“She said the card was probably something he gave Dad.”
“Then why was she afraid of me reading it?”
Michael rubbed both palms over his knees.
“She wasn’t afraid.”
Lauren waited.
He looked at her.
“Okay. She was.”
It was the first useful thing he had said.
Lauren sat on the end of the bed.
“Why did she crush Sophie’s crown?”
Michael’s mouth tightened.
“You heard what she said.”
“I’m asking what happened before I walked in.”
“She was mad.”
“At a two-year-old?”
“At you.”
“So she punished Sophie.”
Michael stared at the carpet.
Lauren’s voice stayed level.
“What did I do?”
“You told her this morning that we were touring apartments.”
Lauren almost laughed.
“That?”
“She thought you were bluffing.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know.”
“She threatened to throw us out because I said we might leave.”
Michael shook his head.
“No. It was more than that.”
“What?”
“She said if we moved, you’d keep Sophie from her.”
Lauren felt her jaw tighten.
“I said I wanted boundaries.”
“You said she wouldn’t have unsupervised time with Sophie for a while.”
“After she took Sophie from daycare without telling me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Michael flinched.
Lauren stopped.
May you like
She did not like hearing herself repeat Diane’s style of questioning, turning a word into a blade because it was available.
She got up and walked to the window.
