Chương 3
No one did.
She folded her arms tighter.
“I said she was restricted from snacks.”
Desmond gave a tiny shake of his head.
Corinne saw it.
“Do not.”
He stopped moving, but his eyes stayed on Julian.
Julian kept his voice quiet.
“What happened to her face?”
Corinne’s jaw tightened.
“She was hysterical.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“She grabbed at me.”
Wren made a sound against Julian’s jacket.
It was barely more than a breath.
Julian looked down.
Her eyes were closed.
One hand remained tangled in the fabric at his side.
Corinne continued too quickly.
“She was screaming and throwing things and I was trying to get the plate away because she had already been told no.”
Desmond said, “She didn’t throw anything.”
Corinne swung toward him.
“You were not even in the room.”
“I was in the hall.”
“You were eavesdropping.”
“I heard the spoon.”
Julian looked at the spoon on the dining table.
A small silver object in a large, expensive room.
He had bought that flatware set because Corinne liked the weight of it.
The memory irritated him for no good reason.
He said, “Did you hit her?”
Corinne stared at him.
For a moment, indignation seemed ready to carry her through.
Then her expression shifted.
“I reacted.”
Julian’s stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“She came at me.”
“She’s five.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Then answer the question.”
Corinne looked toward Wren.
“I slapped her.”
Wren’s fingers clenched around Julian’s jacket.
The admission was not loud.
Nothing broke.
No one moved.
Julian felt his pulse beating in his throat.
He had imagined, in the first seconds after seeing the bruise, that certainty would be useful.
It was not.
Certainty simply removed every easier explanation.
Desmond looked at his shoes.
Corinne’s voice changed.
“It was once.”
Julian said nothing.
“I have never done that before.”
Desmond’s head rose.
Corinne caught the movement.
“What?”
He pressed his lips together.
“Desmond.”
Julian turned to him.
“You can say it.”
The boy looked miserable.
“She grabbed her before.”
Corinne’s face hardened.
“That is not the same thing.”
“You left marks.”
“I was trying to keep her from running into the street.”
“That was in the laundry room.”
Corinne stared at him.
Desmond stared back.
Julian felt something cold spread beneath his ribs.
“When was this?”
Desmond shrugged helplessly.
“Maybe two weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
Julian’s mouth went dry.
Desmond added, “You said Mom was stressed.”
The words landed without accusation.
That made them worse.
Julian remembered the call now.
He had been in the back seat of a car, half listening while answering an email on his laptop.
Desmond had said something about Corinne grabbing Wren.
Julian had told him families got irritated with each other and that Mom had a lot on her plate.
He had said it in the smooth, automatic tone adults used when they wanted children to stop bringing them problems they did not have time to examine.
Julian looked away.
The marble counter reflected a distorted strip of daylight.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Corinne noticed.
“You’re supposed to be at the office.”
He looked at her.
She almost seemed relieved to have found something familiar.
“You have the Halpern meeting this morning.”
“Not anymore.”
“Julian.”
He took out his phone.
There were four messages, two missed calls, and a calendar alert.
He opened a text thread with his assistant and typed that he would not be in.
His thumb hovered before sending.
Corinne laughed once without humor.
“So now you’re canceling work because a child took food after being told not to.”
Julian sent the message.
“No.”
He put the phone away.
“I’m staying because my daughter has a bruise on her face and locks on the pantry.”
Corinne’s nostrils flared.
“You love saying it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“Like someone who actually lives here.”
“I live here.”
“Do you?”
The question came out before she could soften it.
Julian went still.
Corinne looked almost startled by herself, but she did not take it back.
“You leave before they wake up half the week,” she said.
“You miss dinner.”
“You promise you’ll be home and then there’s another flight, another client, another emergency.”
“That doesn’t make this okay.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You’re explaining it.”
“I’m telling you what this house is like when you are not in it.”
Desmond moved closer to Wren.
Julian noticed and hated that they seemed accustomed to adult arguments continuing around them.
He bent down.
“Desmond, take Wren to the family room for a minute.”
Corinne snapped, “No.”
Julian looked at her.
“I want them where I can see them.”
“So do I.”
“That’s not happening.”
Her face changed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means they’re staying with me.”
“In our house?”
“For now.”
Corinne gave a brittle laugh.
“You’re being absurd.”
Julian crouched to Wren’s level.
“Do you want to sit on the couch with Desmond?”
Wren looked at her brother.
Desmond nodded.
She released Julian’s jacket reluctantly.
He felt the pull of her fingers disappear one at a time.
Desmond held out his hand.
Wren took it.
As they walked away, Julian watched her carefully.
Her gait seemed normal.
Her shoulders did not.
She kept her head lowered as though expecting someone to call her back.
Corinne waited until they were out of the kitchen.
Then she whispered, “You are humiliating me in front of them.”
Julian looked at her.
That was the first thing she had said all morning that sounded entirely honest.
“Corinne.”
“No.”
Her arms uncrossed.
Her hands shook.
“You don’t get to stand there judging me when you have no idea what has been happening.”
“Then tell me.”
“I have been telling you.”
“You said she stole food.”
“She does.”
“You put locks on the pantry.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she eats compulsively.”
Julian frowned.
“She is five years old.”
May you like
“She takes things and hides them.”
“What things?”
