Chương 8
"I know."
"I also need you to understand that from this point forward, you should avoid any situation where Eli is alone with her until we have more information."
Claire looked down.
"Okay."
Mara expected relief.
Instead, she saw fear.
"What is it?" Mara asked.
Claire hesitated.
Then she pulled out her phone.
"There is something else."
Daniel waited.
Claire opened her messages.
"There was a message from Rachel this morning."
She showed him the screen.
The counselor read it carefully.
His expression remained controlled.
But his silence lasted too long.
"What?" Mara asked.
Daniel looked at Claire.
"When did she send this?"
"After the phone call."
He read the message again.
Then he handed the phone back.
"What does she mean by 'the only thing keeping him honest'?"
Claire looked toward Eli.
"I don't know."
Mara watched her daughter.
For the first time, Claire seemed afraid of Rachel.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Afraid.
And that frightened Mara more than anything else.
Because fear was rarely created by one conversation.
It usually came from knowing, somewhere deep down, that a person had more power than they should.
Because fear was rarely created by one conversation.
It usually came from knowing, somewhere deep down, that a person had more power than they should.
Claire kept staring at the message until the screen dimmed.
Mara could see her daughter's reflection in the black glass.
She looked like someone who had just discovered the floor beneath her had never been solid.
"Has Rachel ever threatened you?" Daniel asked.
Claire looked up.
"No."
The answer came quickly.
Then she added, "Not directly."
Daniel waited.
Claire sighed.
"She doesn't do that."
"What does she do?"
Claire looked at the phone.
"She makes you feel like you are the one who came up with the idea."
Mara understood that better than she wanted to.
Some people pushed.
Some people pulled.
Some people simply stood nearby until you moved where they wanted you to go.
"When did Rachel start getting involved?" Daniel asked.
Claire leaned back in the chair.
"About two months ago."
"Why?"
"Because Eli started having problems at school."
"What kind of problems?"
Claire looked toward her son.
"He stopped turning in homework."
"Anything else?"
"He got angry."
"How?"
Claire hesitated.
"He threw things once."
Mara glanced at Eli.
The boy stared at the floor.
"When did that start?" Daniel asked.
"After his father stopped visiting regularly."
The room softened for a moment.
There it was.
The wound underneath the wound.
Eli's father leaving had been the thing everyone talked about.
The thing everyone blamed.
The convenient explanation that allowed people to stop looking deeper.
Daniel nodded.
"How often does his father see him now?"
Claire looked uncomfortable.
"Not much."
"Why?"
"He says work is complicated."
Mara almost laughed, but there was no humor in it.
Work was the most common place people hid when they wanted to avoid admitting they were choosing something else.
Daniel wrote something down.
"Has Eli talked about his father?"
"Sometimes."
"What does he say?"
Claire looked at her son.
"That he thinks his dad forgets him."
Eli's face tightened.
"I didn't say that."
Claire immediately looked at him.
"You don't have to be embarrassed."
"I didn't say it."
The correction was quiet but firm.
Mara noticed.
Eli was not only afraid.
He was also tired of adults deciding what he felt.
Claire stopped.
"You're right."
She took a breath.
"You didn't say it."
Eli looked surprised.
Small moments.
Small repairs.
Mara knew they mattered.
But she also knew they did not erase damage.
Daniel closed the folder.
"I think we need to understand Rachel's involvement before we make assumptions."
The statement sounded careful.
Professional.
But Mara noticed something else.
He did not say Rachel was innocent.
He did not say she was guilty.
He was keeping space for facts.
A discipline Mara wished more people practiced.
After they left the counselor's office, Claire stood outside the school entrance without moving.
Parents passed them carrying coffee cups and backpacks.
A child ran past wearing a superhero cape over his winter jacket.
The ordinary world felt almost insulting.
"I need to go home," Claire said.
Mara looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I need to find out if she has been inside my house."
"You think she has?"
"I don't know."
Claire rubbed her arms.
"And I hate that I don't know."
They drove home without turning on the radio.
Eli sat in the back seat drawing again.
This time he drew a house with a fence around it.
Mara noticed the fence had a gate.
It was open.
She did not mention it.
When they arrived, Claire went straight inside.
She checked the front door lock.
Then the back door.
Then the windows.
Mara watched her.
"Claire."
"What?"
"You are looking for something."
"I know."
"No."
Mara walked closer.
"You are looking for proof that you were not careless."
Claire stopped.
The truth of it made her angry.
Not at Mara.
At herself.
"Maybe I was."
"You made a mistake."
"That sounds nicer."
"It is more accurate."
Claire looked around the house.
The place was neat in the way homes often became when people were trying to convince themselves they had control.
The cushions were arranged perfectly.
The kitchen counters were clear.
The mail was stacked.
But there was tension underneath it.
A feeling that the house had been performing calmness.
"Where did Rachel usually sit with him?" Mara asked.
Claire pointed toward the dining room.
"Here."
Mara walked over.
Nothing looked unusual.
A wooden table.
Three chairs.
A bowl of fruit nobody touched.
A stack of school papers.
Then she noticed something.
A small black device sitting near the bookshelf.
Not hidden.
Not obvious.
Just placed there.
"What is that?"
Claire turned.
She walked over and picked it up.
Her expression changed.
"I don't know."
Mara felt her stomach tighten.
Claire examined it.
"It's not mine."
Eli appeared in the doorway.
"That's Rachel's."
Both women turned.
May you like
"What?" Claire asked.
Eli looked nervous.
