Chương 3
Nathan felt heat rise behind his face.
“What happened after that?”
Grace’s breathing changed.
The paramedic looked over.
Nathan stopped immediately.
“Forget it. We can talk later.”
Grace nodded.
A minute passed.
Then she whispered, “I didn’t steal it.”
Nathan looked at her.
“What?”
“The phone.”
“What phone?”
Grace’s eyes moved toward him.
“Victoria’s.”
Nathan sat very still.
“She said I stole it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grace frowned.
That frightened him more than tears would have.
Because she had expected him to know.
The ambulance slowed.
Traffic lights flickered through the rain.
Grace said, “She told me you knew.”
Nathan’s fingers closed around the strap of her backpack.
“What did she tell you I knew?”
“That I went in her purse.”
Nathan said nothing.
Grace watched his face.
Then her own changed.
A child could recognize betrayal without understanding its architecture.
“She lied?”
Nathan reached toward her.
Grace turned her face to the window.
The paramedic looked down.
No one spoke for the rest of the ride.
At the emergency department, everything became fluorescent, procedural, and slow.
Nathan filled out forms.
He answered insurance questions.
He gave Grace’s medication history to a nurse.
He texted his sister.
Emergency. Grace had allergic reaction. Stable. Not getting train. Will call.
Sarah replied within seconds.
WHAT HAPPENED?
Nathan turned his phone facedown.
He couldn’t answer yet.
He didn’t know.
That became the shape of the night.
Things he didn’t know.
He didn’t know what cookie Grace had eaten.
He didn’t know where Victoria had bought it.
He didn’t know what phone Grace had supposedly stolen.
He didn’t know why Victoria had kicked the emergency case away.
He didn’t know why Grace believed he had been told about something that had never happened.
Most frighteningly, he didn’t know how long his daughter had been afraid of his wife.
A physician examined Grace shortly after ten.
She was improving.
They wanted to observe her for several hours because severe allergic reactions could recur.
Nathan agreed immediately.
Grace asked if she could sleep.
The physician said eventually, after monitoring.
Nathan sat beside the hospital bed.
Grace watched a cooking competition on the wall-mounted television with the volume turned low.
After twenty minutes she said, “I hate this show.”
Nathan looked up.
“Then why are we watching it?”
“The remote is over there.”
It sat on a counter six feet away.
Nathan stared at her.
Grace gave the smallest smile.
He got up and handed it to her.
She switched channels twice and stopped on an animated movie she had seen at least four times.
Nathan sat down again.
“That one?”
“I know what happens.”
He understood.
He had spent most of his adult life liking things he knew the ending to.
Baseball games from seasons already finished.
Old crime novels.
The same sandwich from the deli near his office.
Grace had inherited more from him than the shape of her chin.
She watched for several minutes.
Then she said, “Are you mad at me?”
Nathan turned fully toward her.
“No.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“What if I did something bad?”
He rubbed his palms together.
“Did you?”
Grace looked toward the television.
“I went in Victoria’s purse.”
Nathan waited.
“She left it open.”
“Okay.”
“I wasn’t stealing.”
“What were you doing?”
Grace picked at the hospital blanket.
“She took my iPad.”
Nathan knew that part.
Or thought he did.
Victoria had said Grace lost screen privileges after being disrespectful.
“What does that have to do with her purse?”
“She had it.”
“Your iPad?”
Grace nodded.
“In her purse?”
Another nod.
Nathan’s confusion showed.
Grace hurried to explain.
“I saw it because she was in the bathroom and her purse fell over. I was looking for my lip balm first. The strawberry one. I thought maybe it fell in because she put my jacket on top.”
Nathan said, “You were looking in her purse.”
Grace looked guilty.
“Yes.”
“We’ll talk about that part later.”
Her face fell.
“Not because you deserve what happened tonight.”
She looked up again.
“What did you see?”
“My iPad.”
“And?”
Grace’s hand stopped moving.
“Her phone was on top.”
Nathan waited.
Grace whispered, “It had Mom’s name.”
The room seemed to tilt by one degree.
Nathan’s first wife, Emily, had been dead for four years.
Grace’s mother had died of a ruptured cerebral aneurysm when Grace was three.
There was no reasonable way for Victoria’s phone to display Emily’s name.
“What do you mean?”
“It said Emily.”
Nathan forced his voice to remain even.
“Where?”
“On a message.”
“What message?”
Grace shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You saw the name but didn’t read it?”
“I read a little.”
Nathan looked toward the door.
The hallway outside remained ordinary.
A nurse pushed a cart past.
Someone coughed.
The television cartoon continued.
“What did it say?”
Grace squeezed her eyes closed.
“I don’t remember all.”
“That’s okay.”
“She said not to tell you.”
“Victoria?”
Grace nodded.
“She saw me.”
“What happened?”
“She grabbed the phone.”
Nathan felt something hard settle in his stomach.
“Did she hurt you?”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Grace looked away.
Nathan stood.
He went to the door, closed it halfway, and returned.
“Grace, look at me.”
She did.
“Did Victoria hurt you?”
“She squeezed my wrist.”
“How hard?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did it leave a mark?”
Grace pushed up the sleeve of her hoodie.
Nothing obvious remained.
“That was yesterday.”
Nathan sat down again.
Yesterday.
He had worked late.
Victoria had picked Grace up from school.
They had eaten without him.
When he came home, Grace was already in bed.
Victoria had said Grace had been moody.
Nathan had gone upstairs, kissed his daughter on the forehead, and told her they would have pancakes Saturday morning.
She had pretended to be asleep.
His stomach turned.
“What did Victoria say after she caught you?”
“She said I stole her phone.”
“Anything else?”
Grace’s eyes filled.
“She said you would believe her.”
May you like
Nathan closed his eyes.
Only for a second.
