Chương 4
I need room to breathe.
Claire had not told anyone.
She walked toward the phone.
“I’m done.”
Evelyn stepped into her path.
Claire moved around her.
Evelyn caught her forearm.
“Let go.”
“You are not walking away every time somebody says something you dislike.”
“Let go of me.”
Claire pulled.
The movement knocked her hip against the folded ladder.
It tipped.
She grabbed for the railing.
Evelyn’s other hand struck her shoulder.
Claire went over.
Detective Shaw interrupted.
“Struck accidentally or pushed?”
Claire looked directly at her.
“Pushed.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the strap?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
Claire closed her eyes.
She reconstructed it slowly.
As she fell, the beige strap had caught around her forearm because her arm went through the open loop hanging from the ladder.
The ladder skidded toward the railing but snagged briefly against the base of a lounge chair.
Claire caught the terrace edge with her free hand.
Evelyn stood above her.
Claire screamed.
Maria came running.
Then Evelyn kicked the ladder away.
“So the strap remained around you?”
“Yes. Part of it did. I think it pulled free from the ladder when she kicked it.”
“And Mrs. Bennett said the baby takes everything from us.”
“Yes.”
“Exact words?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“I was hanging off a building.”
“I understand. I’m asking because exact words matter.”
“Yes. Those were the words.”
Shaw wrote something.
“And when Daniel arrived?”
Claire told her.
Every line.
Every pause she could remember.
When she reached Daniel’s statement—I told her to scare Claire, not kill her—her voice changed.
She hated that it changed.
Shaw noticed.
She waited.
Claire rubbed one thumb over the bandage on her palm.
“Is he under arrest?”
“I can’t discuss investigative steps with you in detail right now.”
“That means no.”
“It means I don’t want to tell you something inaccurate.”
“My husband admitted he was involved.”
“He admitted he asked his mother to scare you. We need to determine what that meant, what he expected, what was communicated, and what actions followed.”
Claire stared at her.
“So he gets ambiguity.”
“Everybody gets evidence.”
The answer made Claire angry.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it was fair.
Fairness felt intolerable that afternoon.
Maria gave her statement next.
It took nearly an hour.
When she returned, she had changed into hospital scrubs a nurse found for her because her uniform was torn.
Claire had never seen Maria in anything except the black-and-white clothes Evelyn required staff to wear.
She looked younger.
Tired, but younger.
“They asked whether I hate Mrs. Bennett,” Maria said.
“What did you say?”
“I said not before today.”
Claire smiled despite herself.
Maria sat down.
For several minutes they listened to the fetal monitor.
Then Maria asked, “Can I tell you something you’re not going to like?”
Claire looked at her.
“I don’t know if I have a limit anymore.”
“Daniel texted me this morning.”
Claire’s smile vanished.
“What?”
“At eight-fifteen.”
“What did he say?”
Maria hesitated.
“He asked whether you were upstairs with his mother.”
Claire sat up too fast and winced.
“Why didn’t you tell the detective?”
“I did.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Maria took her own phone from her pocket.
The screen was scratched but intact.
She opened the message.
Daniel: Is Claire with Mom upstairs?
Maria: I think so. Why?
Daniel: Stay close today.
Maria: Is something wrong?
Daniel: They’re both upset. Just don’t let it turn into a scene.
Claire read it twice.
“Stay close.”
“Yes.”
“He knew.”
“I don’t know what he knew.”
“He knew enough to tell you to stay close.”
Maria’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire gave her the phone back.
Then she asked the question she had been avoiding.
“What did you see before I went over?”
Maria looked down.
“Nothing.”
“Maria.”
“I was in the kitchen.”
“Did Evelyn tell you to stay downstairs?”
Maria looked up.
That was answer enough.
“What did she say?”
“She said she and you needed privacy and there was no reason for staff to be hovering.”
“Does she normally say that?”
“Sometimes.”
“But this morning?”
Maria rubbed the side of her wrist.
“She told me twice.”
Claire turned her face toward the window.
Clouds had begun gathering over the skyline.
There had been no clouds that morning.
For some reason she found that offensive too.
The baby kicked.
Claire put her hand over the movement.
Maria watched.
“I almost lost her.”
“You don’t know it’s a girl.”
Claire glanced at her.
“No.”
“Daniel said he didn’t want to know yet.”
“I know.”
Claire had not realized Maria knew that.
Then again, Maria had lived around them for eleven years.
She knew who took coffee black and who lied about cutting sugar.
She knew Daniel left wet towels on the floor when he was stressed.
She knew Evelyn never ate breakfast before a board meeting.
She knew Claire sometimes stood in the pantry eating saltines when nausea made the smell of cooked food unbearable.
Family knowledge belonged to strange people in large houses.
At four-thirty, a social worker asked Claire whether she had somewhere safe to stay after discharge.
The question embarrassed her.
Claire Bennett had access to three properties, two vehicles, several credit cards, and a husband whose name appeared on a downtown office tower.
Yet she did not know where to sleep.
“The house is mine too,” she said.
The social worker nodded.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Claire looked away.
“No.”
“Do you have family nearby?”
“My parents are in Colorado.”
“Friends?”
“Yes.”
She thought of Natalie Park, her former college roommate, who lived in a two-bedroom condo ten minutes from the hospital with a husband, a four-year-old, a dog that barked at delivery trucks, and nowhere sensible for a pregnant woman to hide from a wealthy family scandal.
May you like
Claire had ignored Natalie’s last three calls because Natalie disliked Daniel and made no effort to conceal it.
“Maybe,” Claire said.
