Chương 4
Daniel stared at her.
He almost corrected the sentence. Meetings did not work that way. Investors did not withdraw capital because an executive’s daughter called.
Then he realized accuracy was not the issue.
“Did you want to call me?”
Sophie nodded.
“Why?”
Another shrug.
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“I wanted you.”
Daniel looked away.
There was no good place to put that sentence.
His phone buzzed again.
VICTORIA: We need to talk before you let Sophie build a story around this.
Then another.
You know she changes details when she’s upset.
Daniel stood.
“I have to speak with Victoria.”
Sophie’s face changed.
“I’ll stay here.”
“No.”
“I don’t want to see her.”
“You won’t.”
He called Nora.
Ten minutes later, a young hospitality employee named Mia arrived carrying a deck of cards and two packets of hot chocolate. She introduced herself to Sophie, then sat cross-legged on the lower berth without forcing conversation.
Daniel knelt in front of his daughter.
“I’m going to be two cars away.”
Sophie nodded.
“Mia has a radio. Nora knows where I am. The door stays locked.”
Another nod.
“If you want me, you tell Mia and I come back.”
“What if you’re talking?”
“I stop talking.”
“Even if it’s money?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Even if it’s money.”
She considered that.
“Okay.”
Victoria was waiting in the lounge car.
She had changed nothing about herself except her shoes. She sat beneath a brass lamp with her legs crossed, dark green satin smooth over one knee, a cup of untouched tea in front of her.
Daniel remained standing.
Victoria looked at him.
“You left me sitting there for twenty minutes.”
“I was with Sophie.”
“I know where you were.”
“Then why say it?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“Nora says you asked for a cleaning cloth before dinner.”
Victoria’s expression shifted so slightly he might have missed it six months earlier.
He did not miss it now.
“She misunderstood.”
“She also says you asked where the cranberry juice was.”
“I was looking for something Sophie would drink.”
“Sophie doesn’t like cranberry juice.”
Victoria folded her arms.
“This is becoming ridiculous.”
“Did you pour it?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Sophie people get tired of kids?”
Victoria stared at him.
“She takes everything literally.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I was trying to explain that behavior affects relationships.”
“She’s five.”
“And she isn’t stupid.”
“No. She isn’t.”
Something in his tone made Victoria look away.
The train slowed.
The rhythm beneath them stretched wider until individual impacts could be heard from the wheels.
Victoria rubbed one thumb over the edge of her diamond ring.
“I have been alone with this for months.”
“With what?”
“Her.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
Victoria saw it.
“Don’t do that. I don’t mean her existence.”
“Then be specific.”
“The behavior. The testing. The way she acts completely different with you.”
“She’s five.”
“You keep saying that like five-year-olds have no agency.”
“They have five-year-old agency.”
“You don’t see it.”
“Apparently I don’t see a lot.”
Victoria stood.
“Do you have any idea what it is like to walk into a house where every room still belongs to a dead woman?”
Daniel stared at her.
There it was.
Not the whole truth.
Something closer.
Victoria continued before he could answer.
“Her photographs are everywhere. Her Christmas ornaments. Her recipes in the kitchen. Sophie compares everything. Claire did pancakes this way. Claire let me put my shoes on the couch. Claire sang this song. Claire bought this shampoo.”
“She was her mother.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Victoria’s eyes flashed.
“Yes, Daniel. I do. I know it every single day.”
He glanced toward the dark window.
Their reflections hovered over the snow.
Victoria’s voice lowered.
“I never asked you to erase her.”
“No.”
“But you asked me to join your life and then acted offended whenever joining it changed anything.”
“Did that make you pour juice on the floor?”
She looked at him.
“You have already decided.”
“I’m asking.”
“No, you’re prosecuting.”
“I’m trying to understand why my daughter thinks you can decide whether I get tired of her.”
“She twists things.”
Daniel laughed once.
Victoria’s chin lifted.
“There. That.”
“What?”
“You think this is simple because simple lets you be furious instead of guilty.”
The sentence landed because part of it was true.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Do not use my guilt to get around the question.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m telling you that you have left me to manage every difficult thing with Sophie while you arrive home and become the fun parent.”
Daniel stopped.
Victoria’s eyes had gone wet, though she did not cry.
“I make her lunches. I take her to appointments. I deal with the calls from preschool. I wash the bedding when she has nightmares and doesn’t make it to the bathroom. I sit through forty minutes of her refusing to put on socks, and then you come in at seven-thirty with ice cream and she runs to you like I’m the prison guard.”
Daniel said nothing.
“She tells you I’m mean because I make her brush her teeth. You laugh. She says she hates the green dress I bought, you buy the blue one. I say no cookies before dinner, you come home and give her one because you didn’t know.”
“I’ve made mistakes.”
“Yes.”
“None of that answers me.”
Victoria’s nostrils flared.
“No, Daniel. I did not tell your daughter you’re going to abandon her.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I know what you’re asking.”
“Did you pour the juice?”
“No.”
The denial came cleanly.
Maybe that was what made Daniel understand he was not going to solve this through interrogation.
He had spent his professional life believing enough pressure eventually revealed a usable answer. Investors disclosed intentions. Contractors revised numbers. Lawyers clarified language. Employees admitted mistakes when facts narrowed the available exits.
Families were not negotiations.
Children were not witnesses he was supposed to cross-check before deciding whether they deserved safety.
May you like
He sat down at last.
Victoria remained standing.
