Chương 4
Normal life.
She hated it for continuing.
"Your father found out I was pregnant."
Ethan's expression didn't change.
"When?"
"Two weeks after you left for London."
"You told him before you told me?"
"I didn't tell him."
"Then how?"
"Your mother."
Ethan stared at her.
Claire saw the instant refusal.
"No."
"She found the pregnancy test."
"My mother wouldn't—"
"She thought she was helping."
"Helping how?"
"She told your father we needed to decide what to do before you came home."
Ethan looked away.
His father, Richard Cole, had spent forty years turning a regional construction company into a national infrastructure firm. He treated uncertainty as incompetence and private embarrassment as betrayal.
Ethan had spent half his adult life trying not to become him.
"What did he say?"
Claire rubbed her palm.
"He asked me to come to the house."
"You went?"
"I was twenty-nine and scared."
"You were twenty-nine, Claire, not nineteen."
She looked at him.
There it was.
A small piece of the old Ethan.
Not cruelty.
Judgment delivered too quickly.
He saw her expression.
"Sorry."
"No, you're right. I should've known better."
"That's not what I meant."
"I went because your mother called me crying."
Ethan became quiet.
Claire continued.
"Your father had documents ready. Money. A nondisclosure agreement. A clinic appointment."
Ethan's face changed.
"An abortion?"
Claire nodded.
"He couldn't force you."
"No."
"Then what do you mean wanted him dead?"
Claire reached into her purse.
Her hands were shaking now.
She took out her phone.
"I kept one thing."
She opened a protected folder and found the photograph.
Ethan stared at the screen.
It showed a handwritten note on cream stationery.
Three sentences.
Claire had photographed it before leaving the Cole house.
Ethan read them twice.
If you insist on carrying this pregnancy, you should understand that accidents happen to women without resources. Ethan has a future. Do not make yourself the thing that destroys it.
There was no signature.
Ethan looked up.
"My father wrote this?"
"Your mother gave it to me."
"That doesn't answer me."
"No. I never saw him write it."
"Did she say he did?"
Claire hesitated.
"She said, 'Richard wants you to understand how serious this is.'"
Ethan stared at the photograph again.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I did."
His eyes lifted.
"What?"
"Christmas Eve. Six times."
"I never got those calls."
"I know."
"How?"
"Because the next morning your number had changed."
Ethan frowned.
"My phone was stolen in London."
Claire went still.
"When?"
"December twenty-third."
Neither spoke.
People passed around them.
A little girl dragged a pink suitcase shaped like a cat.
Claire felt something cold spread beneath her ribs.
"Your mother told me you'd changed your number because you didn't want me contacting you."
Ethan stared at her.
"She told me you left."
"I did leave."
"Before that. She told me you took a job in Seattle and didn't want me following you."
"I've never lived in Seattle."
"I know that now."
Claire looked down at her phone.
For six years, the story had been fixed in her mind.
Richard had threatened.
Margaret had tried, imperfectly, to help.
Ethan had chosen his family.
Now one piece had moved.
Then another.
She hated how quickly certainty could become architecture built on sand.
Ethan said, "I want a paternity test."
Claire laughed once.
It wasn't humor.
"Of course you do."
His expression hardened. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you meet him and within an hour you want documentation."
"I need to know."
"I know he's yours."
"And I don't."
The words hurt because they were reasonable.
Claire put her phone away.
"Fine."
"When?"
"After Christmas."
"No."
She looked at him.
"I've waited six years."
"You didn't know for six years."
"Exactly."
"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve."
"I know what day it is."
"The children have plans."
"So did I."
Claire's temper rose.
"Do not make Noah pay for this."
"I'm trying not to."
"Then don't turn his Christmas into a DNA appointment."
Ethan looked toward Sarah and the children.
Noah was watching them over a cookie.
Ethan lowered his voice.
"December twenty-sixth."
Claire considered it.
"Fine."
"And I want to see him tomorrow."
"No."
"Claire."
"He needs time."
"So do I."
"You're forty. He's six."
That silenced him.
Claire picked up Lily's small backpack.
"December twenty-sixth. I'll text you."
"You don't have my number."
He took a business card from his wallet.
Claire stared at it.
Ethan Cole
Cole Infrastructure Group
Chief Operating Officer
She almost smiled at the absurdity.
"What?"
"You still carry business cards."
"Apparently I'm eighty."
Against her will, she laughed.
It lasted less than a second.
Ethan heard it.
Something old passed between them.
That frightened Claire almost as much as the rest.
She took the card.
"Good night, Ethan."
"Claire."
She stopped.
He looked toward Noah.
"Tell him I didn't leave him."
Claire's throat tightened.
"I can't tell him something I don't know is true."
Then she walked away.
At Sarah's apartment, Noah refused to sleep.
At 11:43 p.m., Claire found him sitting on the kitchen counter eating dry cereal from a mug.
"You know you're not allowed up there."
"You hit people."
Claire stared at him.
"That's fair."
He moved over enough to make room, although there wasn't really room.
Claire leaned against the counter instead.
"Can't sleep?"
"No."
"Me neither."
He ate another piece of cereal.
"Is Ethan bad?"
Claire looked toward the dark living room.
Lily was asleep on the pullout sofa beside Sarah, the gray rabbit tucked under her chin.
"I don't know."
"You know him."
"I used to."
"Was he bad then?"
"No."
"Then why'd you leave?"
Claire folded her arms.
Noah waited.
Children could wait forever when adults wished they wouldn't.
"I was scared."
"Of his family?"
"Yes."
"Is his family my family?"
Claire closed her eyes briefly.
"Technically."
"I don't want them."
"You don't have to decide anything tonight."
"Do I have to call Ethan Dad?"
"No."
"Can I?"
May you like
Claire looked at him.
"Someday, if you want to."
