Chương 5
“She’s dead.”
Another pause.
“I’m sorry.”
“You knew her.”
“I knew of her.”
“She was my daughter.”
“Maxwell, this is not a conversation to have by telephone.”
“Then answer one question. Did you know she was my daughter?”
Evelyn inhaled softly.
“I knew Elizabeth claimed that.”
“Did you arrange for Elizabeth’s father’s loans to be threatened?”
“Come to the house.”
“Did you forge a letter using my signature?”
“Do not use words like that when you are emotional.”
“I’m not emotional.”
The lie sounded like his mother.
Her voice lowered.
“There were circumstances you did not understand then and do not understand now.”
“Nora was twenty-nine.”
“I know how old she was.”
Maxwell gripped the edge of the counter.
“How?”
Evelyn said nothing.
“How did you know her age?”
“You told me when Elizabeth became pregnant.”
“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“You knew she might be.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Come to the house,” Evelyn repeated. “Alone.”
The line went dead.
Maxwell stood in the silent kitchen until the automatic lights dimmed around him.
He did not go to his mother’s house.
At nine, Claire arrived with a mobile phlebotomist and a family-law attorney named Rebekah Shaw. Claire had represented Maxwell through acquisitions, shareholder disputes, and an investigation involving a foreign subsidiary. She was sixty-one, sharp-eyed, and allergic to comforting language.
Rebekah was younger, with a canvas briefcase and a coffee stain on one sleeve.
“The court will not care that you are important,” she told Maxwell after introductions.
“Good.”
“It will care that you have no relationship with the children, no demonstrated caregiving experience, and an occupation that involves extensive travel.”
“I can change my schedule.”
“The court will want evidence that you did, not a statement that you can.”
The phlebotomist swabbed the inside of Maxwell’s cheek and sealed the sample.
“Can the girls stay here during the process?” Maxwell asked.
“No,” Rebekah said.
“Why not?”
“Because they have an existing temporary placement with licensed caregivers they know. Removing them immediately after their grandmother’s death would be unnecessary and potentially harmful.”
“I’m their grandfather.”
“Assuming the test confirms it.”
“I don’t need a test.”
“The court does.”
Maxwell walked to the windows.
“What is the fastest realistic path?”
“Supervised contact, an expedited kinship assessment, and a petition for temporary guardianship after paternity is established. The girls will have their own representative. The state may participate. The Harrisons may seek continued placement.”
“They’re not relatives.”
“They are stable adults the children trust.”
“So are boarding school administrators.”
Rebekah’s face cooled.
“Children are not corporate assets, Mr. Rothschild.”
Claire looked down at her notes to hide a reaction.
Maxwell turned from the window.
“I know that.”
“No,” Rebekah said. “You know you should say that.”
The first supervised visit took place three days later in a family-services office with carpet the color of oatmeal and a shelf full of plastic toys that had been wiped clean too many times.
The DNA results had arrived that morning. Maxwell was, with practical certainty, Nora’s biological father and the girls’ biological grandfather.
He read the report once, then placed it in a drawer.
Lucy and Lily entered with Simone Harrison. Lily carried the teddy bear. Lucy carried a purple backpack.
Maxwell had brought gifts despite Dana’s warning.
They were not extravagant by his standards: two tablets loaded with educational programs, noise-canceling headphones, and leather-bound sketchbooks because Elizabeth had said Nora could draw.
Lucy looked at the boxes on the table.
“No.”
“They’re for both of you,” Maxwell said.
“We have tablets.”
“These are newer.”
“We don’t need newer.”
Lily touched one box.
“Do they have games?”
Lucy pulled her hand away.
“Don’t.”
Maxwell felt irritation rise, quick and familiar. He suppressed most of it.
“They’re gifts, Lucy. You can accept them without owing me anything.”
“That’s what Grandma said your mother told her.”
The room went still.
Simone sat near the door, letting the silence remain.
Maxwell looked at the unopened boxes.
“You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought them.”
Lily’s face fell.
“We can’t have them?”
Lucy glared at her.
Maxwell almost laughed, not because anything was funny but because Elizabeth had described the girls with painful accuracy. Lucy watched promises. Lily watched anger and tried to turn it into something safer.
“You can have them if you want them,” he said. “Or not. I won’t bring anything next time.”
“Are you coming next time?” Lucy asked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Monday at four.”
She unzipped her backpack and removed a spiral notebook.
“What are you doing?” Lily asked.
“Writing it down.”
Lucy printed MONDAY 4:00 on a page already filled with dates and names.
Maxwell noticed several entries had lines drawn through them.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“May I see?”
“No.”
He nodded.
For the next forty minutes, they played a card game Lily chose from the shelf. Maxwell misunderstood the rules twice. Lucy accused him of cheating the second time.
“I own casinos,” he said. “I don’t cheat at children’s cards.”
“You don’t own casinos,” Lily said.
“How do you know?”
“I looked you up.”
Lucy stared at her sister.
“You said you didn’t.”
“I said I didn’t watch the video.”
“What video?” Maxwell asked.
Neither answered.
Simone checked her phone.
Maxwell laid down a red seven.
Lucy looked at it.
“You can’t play that.”
“You played a red card.”
“It has to match the number.”
“Last time it had to match the color.”
“The queen changed it.”
“No one said that.”
“I did.”
“You were whispering.”
“You should listen.”
Maxwell gathered the cards and placed them facedown.
“All right. Start over.”
Lucy studied him, perhaps expecting anger.
He waited.
She dealt again.
At three fifty-eight on Monday, Maxwell’s car stopped outside the family-services office. He had left a negotiation with a Japanese robotics firm midway through a dispute over patent indemnification. Adrian had taken his seat at the table.
Lucy was already inside when Maxwell entered.
May you like
She looked at the wall clock, then at him.
“You’re early.”
