Chương 3
Emma whispered, “I don’t want people to know.”
Daniel felt something tear open in him.
“They won’t.”
Victoria looked at him.
He knew from her face that he had just made a promise neither of them could guarantee.
He corrected himself.
“We’ll do everything we can.”
Emma nodded once.
That was worse.
She was used to adults changing their promises.
The police arrived twelve minutes later.
By then the gala was effectively over.
Daniel would later remember strange fragments of those twelve minutes more clearly than the important parts: a hotel employee pushing a vacuum cleaner down a distant corridor and then turning around when he saw the crowd; a half-eaten strawberry on a plate beside a velvet chair; Emma peeling the paper label from the water bottle Victoria had given her; Michael repeatedly checking the time despite having nowhere to go.
The officers separated them.
Daniel stayed within sight of Emma while a female officer named Beth Carver spoke to her.
Emma refused a private room.
“I want to stay here.”
Carver nodded.
“Then we stay here.”
No persuasion.
No adult smile.
No honey.
Daniel liked her immediately for that.
Carver asked Emma whether she felt safe with Daniel.
The question hit him like a slap.
Emma looked at him before answering.
“Yes.”
He did not deserve the relief that followed.
Victoria was interviewed separately.
Michael called an attorney.
Of course he did.
Daniel would have done the same.
That thought bothered him.
He watched Michael speaking quietly near the elevators, one hand cupped over his phone. His posture was calm again. He looked like himself.
For years, Daniel had admired that calm.
He had mistaken it for integrity.
At 10:47 p.m., Carver approached Daniel.
“Your daughter needs to be medically evaluated.”
“She was already seen Tuesday.”
“Where?”
“St. Anne’s urgent care.”
“Who took her?”
“Mr. Grant’s assistant.”
Carver’s expression changed.
“Not you?”
“I was in a dinner.”
The words sounded obscene.
Emma sat twenty feet away with Victoria, legs together, white shoes not touching the floor.
Carver lowered her voice.
“Did you know she was being taken for treatment?”
“I got there afterward.”
“Who signed?”
Daniel stared at her.
“I assumed Michael did.”
“He’s not her parent.”
“No.”
“Do you know whether he’s listed as an authorized caregiver?”
Daniel did not.
The answer arrived in the silence between them.
Carver nodded once.
“We’ll need the records.”
Daniel rubbed his thumb against the edge of his wedding ring.
He still wore it.
Three years after Sarah died.
He had stopped noticing it most days.
“I’ll get them.”
“Tonight, focus on Emma.”
Daniel looked toward his daughter.
“Am I allowed to take her home?”
Carver glanced at Michael, then back at Daniel.
“That depends on what she tells us and what the medical evaluation shows. But given the allegations, I strongly recommend you don’t take her anywhere Mr. Grant has access to.”
“He doesn’t have access to my home.”
Carver waited.
Daniel understood the question beneath the statement.
Keys.
Staff.
Drivers.
School pickups.
People Michael knew.
“I’ll change the building access code.”
“Good.”
Victoria stood as they approached.
Emma had finished her water.
“Are we leaving?”
“For the hospital,” Daniel said.
Her face closed.
“No.”
“We need someone to look at your wrist.”
“They already did.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want another doctor.”
Carver crouched several feet away, leaving space.
“Emma, nobody gets to surprise you. We tell you what happens before it happens.”
Emma glanced at her.
“Needles?”
“Probably not.”
“Probably?”
“I don’t lie to kids.”
Emma considered this.
Daniel almost smiled.
Not because anything was funny.
Because Sarah used to say exactly that.
Not about doctors.
About vegetables.
About divorce.
About death.
Emma noticed his expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
“No.” Daniel looked down. “It reminded me of Mom.”
Emma’s face softened and hardened at once.
Grief could do both.
“She hated hospitals.”
“She hated hospital parking.”
“She said the machines were stupid.”
“She said the parking machines were stupid.”
“All machines.”
Daniel let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
Emma did too.
The sound disappeared quickly.
But it had existed.
That mattered.
Michael’s attorney arrived before they left.
His name was Curtis Bell, and Daniel knew him.
Not socially.
Professionally.
They had sat across from each other during a breach-of-contract case five years earlier.
Curtis saw Daniel and stopped.
“Christ.”
Daniel looked away.
Curtis approached Michael first.
They spoke privately.
Then Curtis came toward Daniel.
Carver stepped between them.
“Not now.”
Curtis nodded.
“I understand.”
He looked at Daniel.
“For whatever it’s worth, don’t talk to anyone tonight.”
Daniel almost said, You mean except the police?
Then he heard what Curtis was actually offering.
Professional courtesy.
Or warning.
Or both.
“No offense,” Daniel said, “but I’m not taking advice from Michael’s lawyer.”
Curtis’s face tightened.
“I’m not giving you legal advice.”
“You never do anything for free.”
“That’s why I said don’t talk to anyone, not hire me.”
Despite himself, Daniel nearly laughed.
The old rhythm of adversarial conversation felt obscene against the circumstances.
Curtis glanced toward Emma.
His expression changed.
“Was she the one?”
Daniel’s body went rigid.
“The one what?”
Curtis said nothing.
Michael looked toward them from across the lobby.
Too late.
Daniel stepped closer.
“The one what?”
Curtis’s jaw tightened.
“Daniel.”
“You knew there was another child.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Carver moved between them.
“Mr. Hayes.”
Daniel stopped.
Michael’s voice carried from across the lobby.
“Curtis.”
One word.
A command.
Curtis closed his eyes.
Then he turned toward Michael.
“No.”
The lobby seemed to narrow.
Michael stared at him.
Curtis took a slow breath.
“I’m not representing you tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’m not representing you.”
“You came here because I called you.”
“I came because you told me there had been an accusation involving an employee.”
Daniel felt his stomach turn.
Curtis looked at Carver.
“That is what he told me.”
Michael’s face hardened.
May you like
“You are violating privilege.”
“No privilege attached to a lie you told before I agreed to represent you.”
