Chương 10
Rachel unlocked her car.
“Michael.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you said no.”
He nodded.
“So am I.”
“But I understand why you thought about it.”
Michael looked surprised.
Rachel got into the car.
“Don’t make me repeat that.”
He smiled faintly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Derek eventually stopped fighting the basic fact that he had entered the garage.
The remaining dispute became why he had entered, what he had intended to take, and how his conduct connected to the financial evidence.
His attorney negotiated.
Prosecutors negotiated.
Michael’s attorney negotiated over the company.
Laura’s divorce lawyer negotiated over property that had once seemed simple.
Months passed in conversations none of the Carters heard directly.
Thanksgiving came.
Michael’s mother refused to host.
Laura was invited to Rachel’s house instead.
That decision created three separate arguments before anyone ate.
Michael’s mother said she was not ready.
Michael said that was her right.
Jenna said Laura had done nothing wrong.
Michael’s mother said nobody had accused her of anything.
Jenna said refusing to sit at the same table was an accusation with napkins.
Rachel ended the argument by saying her table was hers.
Laura came.
She brought sweet potatoes nobody ate.
Halfway through dinner, Emma asked if anyone wanted to play Uno.
Everyone did.
Rachel suspected they were grateful for instructions.
Michael lost first.
Laura accused him of cheating badly.
Jenna drank too much wine and laughed until she snorted.
For one hour, nobody discussed Derek.
Then Michael’s mother found the photograph from the garage sitting on Rachel’s bookshelf.
Rachel had forgotten it was there.
She picked it up.
Her fingers touched Derek’s younger face.
The room quieted.
“I hate him,” she said.
Michael looked down.
Then his mother pressed the frame against her chest.
“And I want my son back.”
Laura left the table.
Rachel followed her into the kitchen.
Laura stood at the sink.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Yes, you should.”
“She’s his mother.”
“And?”
“I’m the one divorcing him.”
Rachel leaned against the refrigerator.
“Those things can both hurt.”
Laura shook her head.
“I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel anymore.”
“You’re allowed to feel whatever shows up.”
Laura looked at her.
“That sounds like therapy.”
“I heard it on a podcast.”
Laura laughed.
It came out unexpectedly loud.
From the dining room Michael called, “Are you two talking about us?”
Rachel yelled back, “Only the worst parts.”
Emma shouted, “Mom!”
“What?”
“You said no lying today.”
Laura laughed harder.
Even Michael’s mother smiled when they returned.
The legal resolution came in January.
Derek agreed to plead guilty to charges tied to the unlawful garage entry and to financial offenses arising from the company investigation. The exact language mattered enormously to the attorneys and less to Rachel than she had expected.
There would be restitution questions.
Sentencing.
Civil claims.
Restrictions connected to the company.
Derek surrendered his ownership interest in Carter Restoration as part of a separate business settlement with Michael.
None of it restored what had existed before.
Rachel learned the news from Detective Bell, who called before the prosecutor’s office sent the formal victim notification.
“So Emma won’t have to testify?”
“Based on the plea agreement, that does not appear necessary.”
Rachel sat at her desk at work.
She closed her eyes.
“Thank you.”
Bell paused.
“You did okay.”
Rachel smiled faintly.
“Is that your official assessment?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Officially, I never said it.”
After the call Rachel went into the office bathroom.
She locked herself in a stall.
For months she had imagined relief as something physical—shoulders dropping, lungs opening, a weight removed.
Instead she sat on a closed toilet lid and stared at the grout between floor tiles.
She felt sad.
Then angry that she felt sad.
Then guilty for the anger.
Eventually she laughed quietly at the absurdity of having such complicated emotions in a bathroom where someone had taped a handwritten sign above the sink saying PLEASE STOP FLUSHING PAPER TOWELS.
Her coworker knocked.
“You alive?”
“Yeah.”
“Meeting in five.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been in there seven minutes.”
“Stop timing me.”
“Just checking.”
Rachel washed her face and went back to work.
She told Emma that evening.
They were eating spaghetti.
Emma twirled noodles around her fork.
“So it’s over?”
“Mostly.”
“What does mostly mean?”
“There are still court things for Uncle Derek.”
“Do we have to go?”
“No.”
Emma nodded.
She ate another bite.
Rachel waited for relief.
Tears.
Questions.
Something.
Emma said, “Can I sleep at Ava’s Friday?”
Rachel blinked.
“That’s what you have to say?”
Emma looked confused.
“What?”
Rachel smiled.
“Nothing. Yes. Probably.”
“Her mom said we can make brownies.”
“Then definitely.”
Emma returned to her spaghetti.
Rachel sat back.
Maybe this was what children did when adults finally stopped turning one bad night into every night.
They moved forward while adults were still checking whether they had permission.
Michael came by later.
Rachel gave him a beer.
He stood at the kitchen counter.
“He took the plea.”
“I know.”
Michael nodded.
For a while they listened to Emma talking to a friend upstairs.
“I saw him yesterday,” Michael said.
Rachel looked at him.
“Where?”
“Lawyer’s office.”
“You talked?”
“Five minutes.”
“What did he say?”
Michael rolled the bottle between his palms.
“He apologized.”
Rachel waited.
Michael gave a tired smile.
“I know.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Very.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked him why.”
Rachel stopped.
Michael stared at the bottle.
“He said he was going to put the drive back.”
Rachel let out a breath through her nose.
“Of course he was.”
“He said he just needed to know what was on it.”
“And after breaking the lock, taking it home, hiding it and asking people to lie, he planned to return it.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Do you believe him?”
Michael thought.
“No.”
Rachel nodded.
Michael continued.
“He said something else.”
“What?”
“He said he saw Emma’s curtain move.”
Rachel’s hand stopped halfway to her glass.
“He saw her?”
May you like
“He thinks he did.”
The room became very quiet.
