Chương 4
Megan read it twice.
Then she typed, Put her on the phone.
Deleted it.
Typed, Is she asking for me?
Deleted that too.
Finally she wrote, Keep her home if she wants. Tell her I love her. Don’t make her answer.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Thomas replied, Okay.
At Eleanor and Thomas’s house, Lily sat at the breakfast table in her gray hoodie and picked raisins out of bran cereal one at a time.
Eleanor watched from the sink.
Thomas had already told her twice to stop.
She did not believe she was doing anything.
Watching was not doing.
That had been one of the things Daniel said during the last Christmas dinner before his accident.
Mom, watching is something you do.
He had been talking about her staring at Megan after Megan poured a second glass of wine.
Eleanor had insisted she was only looking.
Daniel had laughed.
Megan had not.
Now Eleanor dried a plate that had already been dry for several minutes.
Lily asked, “Is Mom going to jail?”
Thomas looked up from his coffee.
Eleanor put the plate down.
“No,” she said.
Thomas said, “We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Eleanor glared at him.
“What?” he asked.
“She’s ten.”
“And she asked a question.”
Lily moved another raisin to the side of her bowl.
“Did she break the law?”
Neither grandparent answered immediately.
Lily looked between them.
“That means yes.”
Thomas rubbed his forehead. “It means adults sometimes do things that have consequences, and the consequences aren’t always what you see on TV.”
“Did Grandma break the law when she hit Mom?”
Eleanor went still.
Thomas looked into his coffee.
Lily waited.
Eleanor pulled out the chair across from her and sat.
“I should not have hit your mother.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
For the first time that morning, Thomas smiled.
Not much.
Just enough that Eleanor noticed.
She ignored him.
“I may have,” Eleanor said.
“Are you going to jail?”
“Probably not.”
“Why?”
Thomas said, “That is an excellent question.”
“Thomas.”
“What?”
Lily pushed the cereal bowl away.
“If Mom lied, and Grandma hit her, how come everyone keeps acting like only Mom did something?”
Nobody had an answer that satisfied any of them.
At ten, Megan sat across from Patricia Sloan in an office decorated with framed photographs of sailboats.
Megan had always disliked the photographs. They looked like the kind of calm purchased by people who invoiced in six-minute increments.
Patricia wore navy blue and no jewelry except a watch.
She placed the forged consent form inside a clear sleeve.
“Eleanor has evidence Daniel was unconscious on the date?”
“A notebook.”
“That’s not medical proof.”
“She can get medical proof.”
“Likely, eventually, depending on what records become available through the proper process.”
“He was in a coma, Patricia. I’m not disputing that.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“It means we’re not going to spend money proving something you already admit.”
Megan stared at her.
“You really know how to comfort people.”
“I’m not your comfort professional.”
Despite herself, Megan gave a short laugh.
It vanished quickly.
Patricia leaned back.
“Tell me what Daniel actually said about relocating.”
Megan looked toward the sailboat photograph behind her lawyer’s shoulder.
“We were fighting about money.”
“When?”
“Three days before the accident.”
“What did he say?”
“He said maybe Rachel’s place was better for Lily until we got straightened out.”
“Exact words?”
“I don’t know.”
“Megan.”
“It was nine months ago.”
“Then don’t turn a memory into testimony. Tell me what you remember, not what helps.”
Megan rubbed her palms together.
“He said, ‘Maybe you should take her to Rachel’s for a while.’ Something like that.”
“Did you discuss permanent relocation?”
“No.”
“Changing schools?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He hated the idea.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought I’d make temporary permanent.”
Patricia waited.
Megan looked down.
“He wasn’t completely wrong.”
“Did he ever sign any consent form?”
“No.”
“Did he ever say he would?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say he agreed to the document?”
“He said he’d read it.”
“That is different.”
“I know.”
“Did you know then?”
Megan’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Patricia nodded once.
No judgment.
The absence of judgment felt worse.
“What happened the night before the accident?”
Megan stared at her hands.
Daniel had come home at 11:20 smelling of rain and machine oil from the maintenance shop where he worked. He had stood at the kitchen counter with one shoe untied, reading the first page of the relocation draft while eating cold chicken directly from a plastic container.
He had said, “This thing makes it sound like I’m handing her over.”
Megan had said, “It says temporary.”
“It says you decide schooling.”
“Because somebody has to.”
“I’m somebody.”
“You’re never here.”
“Because I work.”
“Because you avoid coming home.”
Daniel had put down the chicken.
Megan had known then that she had gone too far.
She had also been too angry to stop.
Daniel had folded the draft in half.
“I’ll look at it Friday.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And I’m saying it today.”
“Very efficient.”
“Megan.”
“What?”
“Stop trying to make me the villain because you already packed in your head.”
She had hated that sentence because it was accurate.
The next morning, Daniel’s truck was crushed against a median barrier after another driver hydroplaned across two lanes.
He was unconscious before the ambulance arrived.
Megan told Patricia most of that.
Not the part about the cold chicken.
Not the untied shoe.
Those details belonged to a marriage, not a case.
When she finished, Patricia said, “And after he regained consciousness?”
“He didn’t remember the argument.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked.”
“When?”
“Three weeks later.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked why Rachel kept texting him about Milwaukee.”
Patricia wrote something down.
“He knew about Milwaukee?”
“Yes.”
“Did he object then?”
“He wasn’t capable of discussing anything for long.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“He said he wanted Lily near him.”
“Okay.”
May you like
Megan’s chest tightened.
“You keep saying okay like you’re stacking bricks.”
