Chương 3
“The account still uploaded through a cellular backup,” Lily continued. “I didn’t know. The camera company sent a storage renewal notice to an old email address. I found it after I got out of the hospital.”
“Who helped you download the files?”
“My sister. Then Ms. Price hired a forensic examiner. I didn’t edit anything.”
“I’m not suggesting you did.”
“You will.”
Ruiz did not deny it. “Someone will have to determine that independently.”
The honesty settled Lily more than reassurance would have.
Naomi handed the baby back. He opened his mouth and released a thin, indignant sound.
“He needs to eat,” Lily said.
Ruiz stepped away immediately. “We’re done for now.”
In the secured parking garage beneath the courthouse, Lily climbed into a minivan belonging to Naomi’s investigator. The windows were darkened, and an infant car seat had been installed in the middle row. Lily inspected the straps twice. She tugged the base until the entire vehicle rocked.
“It’s secure,” Naomi said.
“You didn’t install it.”
“No. A certified technician did.”
“People can have certificates and still do things wrong.”
“That is unfortunately the foundation of my profession.”
Lily looked at her.
Naomi’s mouth shifted at one corner.
Against her will, Lily laughed. The sound lasted less than a second and became a sob before she could stop it. She bent over the car seat, one hand on the baby’s blanket, trying to breathe quietly enough not to wake him.
Naomi stood beside her without touching her.
“I said it out loud,” Lily whispered.
“Yes.”
“In front of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“What if they let him go?”
“They may.”
Lily straightened.
Naomi did not soften the answer. “The recording is powerful, but the police still need to authenticate it, identify the substance, establish who had access, and determine what can be proved. Family court can protect you today. Criminal court moves differently.”
“He admitted he didn’t know there was audio.”
“Marcus heard him.”
“Marcus will say he didn’t.”
“Possibly.”
“He’ll protect him.”
“Possibly.”
Lily looked through the concrete garage toward the strip of daylight beyond the exit ramp. “Then what did I do in there?”
“You stopped him from taking your son today.”
Today.
The word felt smaller than victory and more useful.
Lily fastened the baby into the seat. When the van began moving, she kept her hand near his foot without touching it.
Her sister Grace lived forty minutes from the courthouse in a rental house at the end of a narrow street where every lawn seemed to contain either a plastic slide or an abandoned bicycle. She had moved there after separating from her husband and had not yet hung anything on the living-room walls. Cardboard boxes remained stacked beside the television. One was labeled WINTER CLOTHES, though a lamp and a slow cooker sat on top of it.
Grace opened the door before the van stopped.
She wore scrub pants, an old college sweatshirt, and one sock. She came down the steps, saw Lily’s face, and slowed.
“Did it play?”
Lily nodded.
“All of it?”
“Enough.”
Grace looked toward the car seat.
“He’s fine,” Lily said.
“I didn’t ask.”
“You looked.”
“I’m allowed to look at my nephew.”
Grace lifted the baby carrier from the van with both hands. She worked as a respiratory therapist and handled the carrier with the calm authority of someone who had spent years moving fragile bodies through crowded rooms. Lily followed her inside, suddenly too tired to resent it.
A bowl of macaroni and cheese waited on the kitchen counter. Grace had covered it with a plate to keep it warm.
“You need to eat,” she said.
“I ate at the courthouse.”
“You had half a peppermint.”
“It had sugar.”
“It had lint.”
Lily sat at the table while Grace carried the baby into the living room. The house smelled faintly of laundry detergent and the onions Grace had burned earlier. Through the wall came the muffled thump of a neighbor’s music.
Lily took one bite of macaroni. The noodles had fused into a warm yellow mass.
“Perfect,” she said.
“I was dealing with a plumbing issue.”
“You don’t have to defend it.”
“I do. I have a reputation.”
Lily took another bite. She had not realized how hungry she was until swallowing hurt.
Grace placed the carrier beside the table. “What happened after the video?”
“Doors locked. Police came. Vanessa tried to leave.”
“Was she wearing it?”
Lily nodded.
Grace’s mouth tightened. “I hope it cuts off circulation.”
“It was loose.”
“That’s disappointing.”
The bracelet had belonged to their grandmother, who wore it only at Christmas and kept it wrapped in a handkerchief inside an empty tea tin. Lily had inherited it at twenty-three. Evan had called it old-fashioned. Vanessa had worn it to the custody hearing with a black dress and a silver watch, as though the bracelet had always been hers.
Lily stared at the macaroni. “She covered it when the recording played.”
“Because she knew.”
“Or because she knew it was mine.”
“Same difference.”
“It isn’t.”
Grace pulled out the opposite chair. “You don’t have to make excuses for her.”
“I’m not.”
“You do it automatically.”
“For everybody?”
“For people who hurt you.”
Lily set down the fork.
Grace closed her eyes. “That came out wrong.”
“No, it came out the way you meant it.”
“I meant that you keep trying to make other people reasonable because the alternative scares you.”
“Thank you for the diagnosis.”
“I am not diagnosing you.”
“You’re wearing hospital pants. It creates confusion.”
Grace almost smiled, but Lily did not, and the moment disappeared.
May you like
The baby began to fuss. Lily lifted him from the carrier and unbuttoned the front of her dress beneath the cardigan. Grace stood to close the blinds even though the windows faced an empty yard.
While the baby fed, Lily watched his ear move with each swallow. The shell of it was impossibly small. At the hospital, Evan had traced the same ear with one finger and said it was shaped like his. Lily had agreed because she had not wanted to argue over an ear.
