Chương 10
“All right.”
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed.
Liam slept in David’s arms. The radiator hissed after days of silence, releasing a faint metallic smell.
“What do you want me to do with her things?” he asked.
“Whose?”
“My mother’s. There are clothes in the guest-room closet.”
“I don’t care.”
“I can box them.”
“I said I don’t care.”
Her voice sharpened, then immediately weakened.
David stood still.
Maya rubbed her forehead. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Please don’t tell me what I have to do.”
He nodded.
Liam stirred.
Maya held out her arms. David passed him to her with more hesitation than he intended.
She noticed.
“You think I’m going to drop him?”
“No.”
“You paused.”
“You’re still weak.”
“I’m his mother.”
“I know.”
There it was again.
Maya held Liam against her chest and looked away.
That evening, David prepared soup while Rachel helped Maya shower. He heard the water stop, then muffled crying from behind the bathroom door.
His hand froze on the can opener.
He wanted to go in. He wanted to rescue, explain, hold, promise.
Rachel emerged ten minutes later carrying damp towels.
“She’s all right,” she said.
“She’s crying.”
“She’s allowed.”
“What happened?”
“She saw the incision.”
David looked toward the closed door.
“Should I—”
“No.”
“She’s my wife.”
“And right now she asked for me.”
The can opener slipped and cut the edge of his thumb. Blood welled beneath the nail.
Rachel took the towel from her shoulder and pressed it into his hand.
He laughed once, bitterly. “Perfect.”
“You’re making soup, not performing surgery.”
“I can’t seem to do anything without getting it wrong.”
Rachel’s expression softened despite herself.
“Then stop expecting to be good at this immediately.”
David looked at the small line of blood on the towel.
“I’m good at emergencies.”
“Yes.”
“I know what to do.”
“In emergencies.”
He glanced again toward the bathroom.
Rachel lowered her voice. “This isn’t only an emergency now. It’s a life.”
Chloe returned to New York without Evelyn or Mark.
Detective Brooks interviewed her at the precinct, then allowed her to contact David. They met at a café near the hospital because Maya did not want Chloe inside the apartment.
Chloe arrived wearing a borrowed coat and no makeup. At thirty-four, she still had the habit of pulling her sleeves over her hands when frightened.
David did not hug her.
She sat across from him and ordered tea she never touched.
“How is Maya?”
“Alive.”
Chloe flinched.
“How is Liam?”
“Recovering.”
“I want to apologize.”
“To me?”
“To all of you.”
David watched her rub one thumb across the opposite palm.
“Why did Mom have access to my savings?”
Chloe looked toward the counter.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t start with that.”
“I don’t know everything.”
“What do you know?”
She inhaled through her nose.
“Mark’s business was failing. He owed suppliers. Mom said you would help if she asked, but you were busy and Maya controlled the money.”
“Maya didn’t know about the account.”
“I know that now.”
“How much did Mom give him?”
“Maybe fifteen thousand.”
“Statements show more.”
“Some of it went to Mom’s cards.”
“For what?”
Chloe’s face reddened. “Things.”
“What things?”
“Clothes. Trips. The kitchen renovation.”
“She told me insurance paid for the kitchen.”
“It paid for the water damage. Not the cabinets.”
David sat back.
A server placed tea between them. Chloe thanked her too quickly.
“How long?” he asked.
“Since Dad died, maybe.”
Their father had been dead seven years.
Chloe wrapped both hands around the cup.
“Mom said the money was family money. She said you had more than you needed because the Army covered everything.”
“The Army does not cover everything.”
“I know.”
“Did you?”
She looked at him.
“Not enough to stop taking it.”
The answer was ugly and honest.
David asked, “Why did you go to Miami?”
“Because Mark said if we didn’t use the tickets, the money would be wasted.”
“The money was already stolen.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“How did you think of it?”
“As something Mom had arranged.”
“She arranged it with my account.”
“I knew.”
David waited.
Chloe’s eyes filled, but she did not cry.
“I wanted one thing to be easy,” she said. “Mark’s business was collapsing. Mom called every day. You were always gone or busy. Maya didn’t like us. The trip was there. I knew it was wrong, but it felt… already done.”
“Maya didn’t like you because you let Mom insult her.”
“She didn’t like me before that.”
“She barely knew you.”
“Exactly.”
David almost dismissed the complaint, then stopped. Chloe had spent years feeling replaced by every part of David’s adult life. His career. His marriage. His distance. Evelyn had used that too.
“You still took the formula.”
“Yes.”
“You saw Maya could barely stand.”
“Yes.”
“You heard her ask for help.”
Chloe stared into the tea.
“Yes.”
“Then whatever Mom told you, whatever Mark told you, you left.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily.
“I left.”
They sat without speaking.
At the next table, a child complained that his hot chocolate had too much foam. His father scooped it away with a spoon while continuing a phone call.
Chloe said, “Mom has the apartment phone.”
“We don’t have one.”
“I mean a prepaid phone. She bought it months ago. She used it for the banking codes.”
David’s attention sharpened.
“Where is it?”
“She kept it inside Dad’s old tackle box in the garage.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because she called me last night and said Maya deserved what happened.”
David’s fingers curled beneath the table.
“What exactly did she say?”
Chloe reached into her bag and removed her phone.
“I recorded it.”
May you like
The recording was imperfect. Evelyn’s voice came through speaker distortion, alternating between anger and self-pity.
She accused Chloe of betrayal. She said David had always been ungrateful. Then she said Maya had been warned to stop acting helpless.
