Chương 6
Lily stayed still against her.
“Madison said adoption papers can be changed.”
“Madison lied.”
“Why?”
Emily looked at Daniel. He did not rescue her.
“Because she wanted you to be afraid,” Emily said. “She thought being afraid would make you do what she wanted.”
“What did she want?”
“I don’t know all of it yet.”
This answer seemed to matter to Lily. Emily had not pretended certainty.
“Did Grandma lie?”
Emily felt Daniel watching her.
“I think Grandma knew Madison was saying things that were wrong. I need to learn exactly what Grandma did.”
Lily nodded slowly.
“Will she get arrested?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will Madison?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“What do you know?”
Emily looked at the locked connecting door, the rain on the window, the untouched discharge packet on the desk.
“I know you’re staying with us.”
Lily’s face tightened. “Even if you have another baby?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I’m bad?”
“Yes.”
“What if I’m really bad?”
Daniel came back to the bed. “How bad are we talking?”
Lily looked at him suspiciously.
“Bank robbery?” he asked. “Art theft? Illegal penguins?”
A small smile appeared and vanished.
Emily said, “Even if you make mistakes. Families have consequences, not returns.”
Lily leaned into her again.
After she fell asleep, Daniel carried her to the other bed and arranged pillows along the edge. The rabbit remained under her chin.
Emily took half the prescribed pain medication. She refused the other half because it made her thoughts slide apart.
Daniel sat at the desk reading messages from their attorney, Vanessa Cho. He had removed his jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves to the elbows. There was dried blood on one cuff.
“Is that mine?” Emily asked.
He looked down. “Probably.”
“That’s romantic.”
“I was going for subtle.”
She watched him scrub at the fabric with a wet washcloth from the bathroom.
“What did Vanessa say?”
“She wants no public response. She’s sending preservation notices to Madison and your parents. She wants copies of all financial statements, school records, the authorization, every message, and the hospital incident report.”
“Child welfare?”
“They’ll contact us tomorrow.”
Emily stared at the ceiling.
Daniel stopped scrubbing. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“That doesn’t mean the process won’t hurt her.”
“No.”
“I should have revoked the authorization.”
“Yes.”
She turned her head toward him. “You could say something comforting.”
“I’ve been comforting you out of consequences for years.”
The words were quiet.
Emily looked back at the ceiling.
Daniel dropped the washcloth into the sink. “That was cruel.”
“It was accurate.”
“It can be both.”
He sat on the edge of her bed.
The air conditioner clicked on, blowing cold air across the room. Daniel stood again to adjust the vent, then returned with the extra blanket from the closet.
Emily said, “How much do you hate me right now?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“How much do you resent me?”
He unfolded the blanket over her legs. “Enough that I don’t trust myself to answer politely.”
“Answer impolitely.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
He sat down.
For years, he had raised concerns in the careful language of someone approaching an injured animal. Your mother calls too often. Your father has not repaid the loan. Madison should not have access to our gate code. We cannot keep covering the boutique. Lily notices how they speak about adoption. Each time, Emily had agreed in principle and delayed in practice.
Now he did not soften it.
“I resent that every boundary with them became a negotiation with you. I resent that they could insult me and you called it stress. I resent that Madison could ask for money after calling our daughter a charity project, and you transferred it because you didn’t want Christmas to be awkward.”
Emily looked toward Lily’s bed.
Daniel lowered his voice. “I resent that I knew this was coming and still didn’t stop it.”
“You didn’t know this was coming.”
“I knew they didn’t think Lily was permanent.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Emily turned her face away.
Daniel continued. “I watched your mother introduce her as ‘the little girl they adopted’ after two years. I heard your father ask whether our estate plan would change if we had children of our own. I heard Madison tell Lily she was lucky we chose her. Not loved. Lucky.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I did.”
Emily remembered the argument. She had said Madison meant Lily was fortunate to have a stable home. She had accused Daniel of looking for reasons to dislike her family.
Her stomach tightened for reasons unrelated to surgery.
“I thought I could keep everyone,” she said.
Daniel’s anger shifted, though it did not disappear.
Emily looked at her hands. “I thought if I paid for enough things, solved enough problems, ignored enough comments, they would eventually get used to her. Then nobody would have to choose.”
“You made Lily live inside the waiting period.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question hurt because she did.
She had seen Lily grow cautious before family gatherings. She had heard the child ask which toys could travel to Margaret’s house and which should stay safe at home. She had corrected Madison’s language gently, privately, ineffectively. She had mistaken the absence of open conflict for improvement.
“I know now,” she said.
Daniel leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What happens when your mother apologizes?”
Emily did not answer.
“She will,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow. Maybe after the hearing. She’ll say she was frightened. She’ll say Madison took things too far. She’ll say she never wanted Lily hurt. Then she’ll cry, and your father will say the family has suffered enough.”
Emily watched Lily breathe.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to decide before she calls.”
Her phone lit on the dresser.
MOM.
Daniel looked at the screen.
Emily did not move.
The call ended. A voicemail notification appeared.
May you like
Then Margaret called again.
Emily reached for the phone, but it was still too far away. Daniel picked it up and held it without handing it over.
