Chương 5
He could not feel his hands.
“There are older marks.”
His eyes lifted.
“What?”
“Faint bruising higher on the forearm. Likely several days older than Tuesday.”
Daniel sat down.
Nobody told him to.
His legs simply stopped holding him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I need to ask whether there were prior incidents.”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
The doctor waited.
Daniel corrected himself.
“I don’t know.”
Natalie spoke carefully.
“Has Mr. Grant spent time alone with Emma?”
Daniel’s mind began producing a list.
After-school pickups.
Foundation events.
Two dinners at Michael’s house.
A weekend at the lake with several families.
The charity carnival.
The night Sarah’s sister canceled and Michael offered to have his assistant watch Emma in the donor suite.
Not alone.
Never alone, he told himself.
Then he remembered how many adults could be present without actually seeing anything.
“Yes,” he said.
He covered his face.
“I need a lawyer.”
Natalie misunderstood.
“You’re not being accused of—”
“I know. I need someone who understands what happens next. For her.”
He looked up.
“And I need to know whether I’ve already destroyed something by not listening Tuesday.”
The doctor’s expression softened slightly.
“We document what we find. The investigation determines the rest.”
Daniel hated the neutrality.
He needed someone to condemn him or absolve him.
Instead, he got procedure.
He deserved procedure.
They left the hospital after one in the morning.
Carver met them outside.
Michael had not been arrested.
Daniel’s first reaction was rage.
His second was shame at the first.
An accusation was not a conviction.
A photograph was not proof of every fear now multiplying in his head.
Carver explained that detectives were being assigned.
They would obtain statements.
Medical records.
Hotel footage if available.
They needed Emma’s original photographs preserved.
They needed her phone.
Emma heard that part.
“No.”
Carver crouched.
“We can make a copy first.”
“No.”
“It may help us understand what happened.”
“It’s mine.”
Daniel started to say, Emma—
Then stopped.
Carver said, “You’re right.”
Emma blinked.
“It is yours. I’m asking permission to preserve evidence from it. We can do that with your dad present. We won’t go through unrelated things without following the proper process.”
Emma looked at Daniel.
He waited.
Finally, she nodded.
“Can I keep my game?”
Carver smiled.
“Yes.”
“What if you delete it?”
“I won’t.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Emma studied her face as though promises were now objects requiring inspection.
“All right.”
At home, Daniel changed the building access code at 2:14 a.m.
Emma sat on the kitchen counter eating dry cereal because she suddenly wanted cereal and there was no milk.
He found that detail comforting.
She disliked cereal without milk.
She complained about it.
“This is gross.”
“You asked for it.”
“I didn’t know it would be this gross.”
“You’ve eaten dry cereal before.”
“Not this kind.”
He leaned against the counter.
“What’s wrong with this kind?”
“It gets stuck in your teeth.”
She demonstrated.
For thirty seconds they argued about cereal.
Then Emma asked, “Are you mad at me?”
Daniel stopped.
“No.”
“You were at the hotel.”
“I was scared.”
“You look mad when you’re scared.”
He had no defense.
“I know.”
“Mom didn’t.”
“Your mom threw a lamp once.”
Emma looked delighted.
“She did?”
“At me.”
“Why?”
“I deserved it.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her we could reschedule your birth.”
Emma stared.
Daniel rubbed his face.
“I had a client hearing.”
“You tried to reschedule me?”
“I was an idiot.”
“Did she hit you with the lamp?”
“No. She threw it at a sofa.”
“That’s not as good.”
He laughed.
Emma did too.
Then her smile disappeared.
“Michael said you wouldn’t believe me.”
Daniel gripped the counter.
“He said you care more about winning.”
A silence opened between them.
Children could deliver truths adults spent fortunes avoiding.
Daniel looked down at his wedding ring.
“He knew something about me.”
“What?”
“That I like being right.”
Emma ate another piece of cereal.
“You do.”
“Yes.”
“You get weird when somebody says you’re wrong.”
“Yes.”
“And you talk like work.”
“What does that mean?”
She straightened and lowered her voice.
“Emma, I need you to be precise.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
She continued.
“Emma, that’s not what I asked.”
He covered his mouth.
“Emma, answer the question.”
She laughed.
It was a good imitation.
Too good.
Then she became serious again.
“I thought if I had pictures, you’d listen.”
The kitchen seemed suddenly enormous.
Daniel looked at his daughter and understood that between Tuesday and Friday, she had built a case against an adult because she believed that was the language her father respected.
“What happened in the garage?”
She stared into the cereal bowl.
“Natalie said I don’t have to keep saying it.”
“She’s right.”
“I will later.”
“You don’t owe it to me right now.”
Emma nodded.
Daniel turned off the overhead lights and left only the lamp above the stove.
Sarah had installed it because she hated bright kitchens at night.
For three years, Daniel had considered that preference irrational.
Now he stood in the soft pool of light and wished desperately that she were there to insult him.
Emma said, “Can Victoria sleep here?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Sure.”
“Not in Mom’s room.”
“No.”
“I don’t want anybody in there.”
“No one goes in there.”
Emma nodded.
Victoria arrived twenty minutes later carrying a toothbrush, sweatpants, and three chargers because she never knew which one she needed.
She gave Emma the guest room.
“I’m sleeping on the couch.”
“That couch is terrible,” Daniel said.
“I’ve slept on airport floors.”
“That doesn’t make the couch less terrible.”
Victoria dropped her bag.
“You have another couch?”
“No.”
“Then congratulations. Problem solved.”
Emma watched them.
For a second, her mouth twitched.
Daniel realized how badly he wanted to make her smile.
That frightened him too.
He could not turn recovery into another performance he could win.
May you like
At three in the morning, Emma finally slept.
Daniel did not.
