Chương 3
All of which had sounded sensible in daylight.
“Smart,” Megan repeated.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, actually.”
“Meg.”
“Everybody keeps asking whether I’m doing the smart thing. Eleanor. You. The attorney. The school. Daniel used to ask me that. Nobody ever asks whether I’m doing something I can live with.”
Rachel was quiet.
Then she said, “Can you live with what you did?”
Megan looked down at the signature.
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
Not because it was false.
Because it was the first uncomplicated thing she had said all night.
Rachel exhaled. “Come here without Lily.”
“What?”
“Take tomorrow’s bus. Come here. Start the job. Sort the rest out.”
Megan laughed once, softly.
There it was again.
The escape hatch.
Rachel said, “You need the income.”
“I know.”
“You’re three weeks behind on rent.”
“I know.”
“You told me your landlord—”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
Megan walked to the glass doors.
Beyond them, rain blurred the parking lot into silver and black.
“I’m going home.”
“To an empty apartment?”
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow?”
Megan looked at the paper.
“Tomorrow I’m going to tell my lawyer what I did.”
Rachel cursed.
Megan almost smiled.
It was such a Rachel response that for half a second they were sixteen and twenty again, sharing a bathroom and stealing each other’s mascara.
Then Rachel said, “You could lose her.”
Megan’s smile disappeared.
“I know.”
The ride home cost twenty-eight dollars.
Megan watched the number on the rideshare app and hated it irrationally, as though twenty-eight dollars were the part of her life she could still control.
Her apartment was dark when she entered.
Lily’s cereal bowl sat upside down in the dish rack.
A purple hair tie rested beside the sink.
On the refrigerator, Lily had left a note reminding Megan to buy poster board for a science project she would now probably build at Eleanor’s house.
Megan took off her wet coat.
The bus ticket fell out.
She left it on the floor.
She did not sleep.
At 4:12 in the morning, she made toast and forgot to eat it.
At 5:03, she opened the custody document and stared at the signature again.
At 5:19, she searched how to withdraw a false document from a family court filing, then closed the browser because every result made her chest tighten.
At 6:10, she showered.
At 6:42, she put on the same gray sweater she had worn to the terminal because she did not have the energy to choose another one.
At 7:15, she called her lawyer.
Patricia Sloan answered like a woman who had already been awake for hours.
“Megan?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Is Lily safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“With Daniel’s parents.”
A pause.
“Voluntarily?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Megan pressed her palm against the kitchen counter.
“The consent document Daniel supposedly signed.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t.”
The silence on the line felt different from Rachel’s.
Professional.
Measuring.
Patricia said, “Explain exactly what you mean.”
“I signed his name.”
Another pause.
“You forged the signature?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone witness you sign it?”
“No.”
“Did you have it notarized?”
“No.”
“Did you submit it anywhere?”
Megan looked toward the stack of mail on the table.
“I sent a copy with the relocation packet you reviewed.”
“You told me Daniel signed it before his disappearance.”
“I lied.”
Patricia breathed in slowly.
“When?”
“About what?”
“When did you sign it?”
“Nine months after the date on the document.”
“And you deliberately dated it May fourteenth?”
“Yes.”
“Why that date?”
Megan shut her eyes.
Because Daniel had been supposed to sign something that week.
Because a blank draft had been sitting on their kitchen counter before his accident.
Because he had said he would look at it.
Because saying he would look at it had slowly become, in Megan’s memory, saying he agreed.
Because by the time Daniel vanished from rehabilitation, Eleanor had begun referring to Lily as the only thing we have left of him.
Because the apartment lease was ending.
Because Megan’s hours at the dental office had been cut.
Because Rachel had a spare room.
Because fear could build an argument out of almost anything if you gave it enough nights.
“He was supposed to sign it,” Megan said.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Megan stared at Lily’s note on the refrigerator.
“Because I thought nobody could disprove it.”
Patricia was quiet for several seconds.
“Do not destroy the document.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Do not alter it.”
“Okay.”
“Do not contact Eleanor to negotiate what happened last night.”
“She hit me.”
“That is separate.”
“It didn’t feel separate.”
“I understand. Legally and practically, we need to treat them as separate.”
Megan sat down.
The kitchen chair wobbled. She had been meaning to tighten the screw for two months.
“What happens now?”
“I withdraw anything relying on that document.”
“And then?”
“We tell the truth.”
Megan looked at the clock.
“That’s your legal strategy?”
“It’s the only one I’m offering you.”
Patricia’s voice remained calm.
“Megan, listen carefully. You created a false document in a dispute involving your child. I am not going to tell you how to hide that. I am going to help you stop making it worse.”
Megan’s eyes filled.
She blinked until the kitchen sharpened again.
“Can Eleanor take Lily?”
“She can ask for temporary relief. So can you. Nobody on this phone call gets to predict how a court will weigh everything. What matters today is that Lily is safe and that you do not leave the state with her.”
“My job starts Monday.”
“I know.”
“I’ll lose it.”
“Possibly.”
“I can’t pay rent.”
“I know.”
Megan almost said, You don’t know.
Then she remembered Patricia had watched her calculate whether she could afford copies at the courthouse.
She kept quiet.
Patricia said, “We meet at ten. Bring the original document.”
After the call, Megan sat at the table until the toast in the toaster had gone hard.
May you like
At eight, Thomas texted.
Lily slept. She ate cereal. She doesn’t want to go to school today. I told Eleanor that should be your decision too.
