Chương 4
“You went alone,” he said.
“Yes.”
“We talked about that.”
“I know.”
“You promised.”
“I know.”
He turned.
“You keep saying that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Something that makes me feel less like I married somebody who thinks she’s disposable.”
Nora looked down at her hands.
“That’s not fair.”
“No?”
“No.”
Sam pushed his glasses up with one finger.
“I came home last month and found you sitting on the bathroom floor because you thought Claire had someone following you.”
“I was wrong.”
“That is not helping.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You’re seven months pregnant.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you?”
She looked at him.
Immediately, he looked ashamed.
There were a dozen gentler things he could have said.
Sam was usually good at finding them.
Fear had stripped him down to the ugly version of himself.
Nora knew that because fear had done the same thing to her more than once.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m still angry.”
“You can be.”
“I’m angry at you too.”
“I know.”
She almost laughed.
Instead she held out her hand.
He came closer and took it.
For a while they listened to the soft noise of people moving beyond the curtain.
A cart rolled past.
Someone laughed in the hallway.
A baby cried somewhere far enough away that the sound felt borrowed from another life.
Sam looked at her stomach.
“Did she really threaten Rachel?”
Nora nodded.
“What exactly did she say?”
Nora told him.
Sam sat down.
He stayed very still.
“You didn’t tell Daniel that part?”
“He heard it.”
“How?”
“I don’t think the camera recorded audio.”
“I mean he heard the threat from you.”
“No.”
Sam stared at her.
“Nora.”
“I told him about the old request.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“She had just been caught lying. If I repeated the threat right then, it would have sounded like I was piling on.”
“She threatened your life.”
“I know what she said.”
“Then why are you protecting her?”
“I’m not.”
“You are protecting something.”
Nora had no answer.
The truth was more embarrassing.
Part of her still wanted Daniel to reach the right conclusion without being pushed.
Rachel had spent the last year of her life trying to make people see something they did not want to see.
Nora had sworn she would never do that.
Yet here she was, rationing information as though truth would be cleaner if people arrived at it on their own.
Sam rubbed his forehead.
“Please tell me you sent copies of everything somewhere.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My attorney.”
He looked relieved.
Then annoyed.
“You have an attorney?”
“I had one conversation.”
“When?”
“Last Thursday.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I was going to.”
He looked toward the ceiling.
“Fantastic.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
This time Nora did laugh.
Sam tried not to.
He failed.
For perhaps five seconds they were simply married again.
Then his face changed.
“What happens now?”
Nora looked toward the curtain.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel called the next morning.
Nora did not answer.
He called again at noon.
She let that one go too.
The third time, Sam’s name appeared on her screen because she was using his old phone while hers was being assessed for data recovery.
“Is that him?” Sam asked from the kitchen.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to answer?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The call stopped.
Thirty seconds later, a message arrived.
Daniel: I copied the foyer recording before Claire could access the system. I have not deleted or edited anything. I want to give you a copy. I also need to understand what you found. I can come to your lawyer’s office. I will not come to your home.
Nora read it twice.
Sam was slicing an apple.
“He sounds reasonable,” she said.
“That’s how rich people get you.”
She looked at him.
“You sell enterprise software.”
“Exactly. I know.”
He put two apple slices on a plate and slid it toward her.
Nora had not eaten breakfast.
She took one.
“What do you think I should do?”
Sam leaned against the counter.
“I think you should stop asking what Rachel would have done.”
Nora went still.
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She looked down at the apple.
Sam continued more softly.
“You loved her.”
“She was my boss.”
“She was your friend.”
Nora nodded.
“And she died thinking almost everybody believed Claire instead of her.”
Nora’s throat tightened.
Sam looked away first.
“I get why this matters.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I just wish it mattered five months from now.”
She placed one hand over her stomach.
“Me too.”
The lawyer Nora had spoken to was named Elise Grant, a compact woman in her fifties who wore dark suits and had the habit of removing her glasses before saying something unpleasant.
When Daniel arrived at her office two days later, Elise asked whether he had counsel.
He said yes.
She asked why his counsel was not with him.
“Because I’m not here on behalf of my company or my marriage.”
Elise removed her glasses.
“That is not a category I’m familiar with.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Almost.
“I’m here because Nora was assaulted in my home.”
Claire’s attorneys had already used a different word.
Altercation.
Nora had seen it in the letter they sent Elise that morning.
An unfortunate physical altercation arising from an uninvited and emotionally charged confrontation.
Claire was willing, the letter said, to pay for the replacement of Nora’s phone and any medical expenses directly associated with the incident, without admission of fault.
The letter also warned Nora against disseminating private recordings from the Mercer residence.
Elise had read that sentence aloud twice.
Now Daniel sat across from Nora at a conference table and placed a small sealed drive between them.
“This is the foyer footage,” he said. “The original export.”
Elise did not touch it.
May you like
“How was it created?”
Daniel explained, briefly, how the house system stored recent local video before overwriting it and how he had made the copy.
