Chương 6
“I should have checked.”
“Yes.”
He flinched.
Mara watched him without satisfaction.
That disappointed her.
For months she had imagined satisfaction.
Now there was only fatigue.
“I don’t understand how I could have—”
“You don’t have to understand today.”
He looked up.
“You do have to stop making today about what you feel.”
The words struck cleanly.
His eyes went to Luke and Sophie.
“I want to see them.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“No.”
“I’m their father.”
“You were their father last week.”
He stared at her.
“You were their father the day you changed the garage code because you didn’t want me coming by for Sophie’s winter coat. You were their father when Luke left you six voice messages asking whether you were coming to his school concert. You were their father when you had your lawyer send mine a letter saying continued contact would be confusing until the paternity dispute was resolved.”
Owen’s face had gone pale.
Mara’s voice never rose.
“You don’t become their father today because a laboratory gave you permission.”
“I know.”
“No. You know it as a sentence.”
He swallowed.
“You don’t know what it did.”
He looked at Luke.
Their son had turned away and was watching a groundskeeper coil a garden hose.
“He hates me.”
“Luke is six.”
Owen closed his eyes.
“He should.”
Mara’s expression hardened.
“Don’t do that either.”
“What?”
“Don’t make him responsible for punishing you.”
Owen stared.
“You want guilt, take your own. Don’t put it in his hands.”
His breathing broke once.
He controlled it.
“What do I do?”
There had been a time when Mara would have answered immediately.
Call tonight.
Come tomorrow.
Bring Sophie those strawberry crackers she likes.
Ask Luke about dinosaurs.
She knew every road back to the children because she had spent months hoping he would take one.
Now she refused to build it for him.
“You get a lawyer who understands this isn’t a negotiation for access to property.”
He winced.
“You listen to the child specialist Denise recommends.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t show up at my house.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t send gifts.”
He frowned.
“Mara—”
“They do not need you buying your way into a room you walked out of.”
He nodded.
“You don’t ask them to forgive you.”
Another nod.
“You don’t tell them Celeste lied and make that the whole story.”
His eyes lifted.
“She did lie.”
“So did you.”
“I never lied to them.”
“You told Luke you needed space because Mommy had hidden something important from you.”
Owen looked sick.
Mara continued.
“You told him adults sometimes discover they can’t trust each other. You made a six-year-old think I had done something wrong because it was easier than telling him you were choosing not to see him.”
“I thought—”
“I know.”
He stopped.
Good.
“What do I tell them?”
“The truth you can own.”
He looked toward Luke again.
“And what is that?”
Mara’s face remained still.
“You didn’t make sure. You were angry. You believed what was easiest to believe. You hurt them. You’re sorry. And you understand that being sorry does not make them trust you.”
Owen’s eyes filled again.
Mara waited until he looked back at her.
“One more thing.”
“Anything.”
“Never say that to me.”
“What?”
“Anything.”
He blinked.
“You say that when you want the other person to give you a punishment so you can feel like you paid.”
Owen stared at her.
“I’m not interested in punishing you.”
She turned.
“What are you interested in?”
Mara looked back once.
“Keeping them safe from adults who confuse love with ownership.”
She walked away.
Owen did not follow.
By sunset, a video of Richard striking the DNA report against Owen’s chest had been viewed more than two million times.
The clip lasted fourteen seconds.
It did not include Mara’s arrival.
It did not include the children.
It did include the ring hitting the stone and Victoria’s face after Richard said, Your mother did.
People had slowed that portion down.
Somebody added arrows.
Somebody enlarged Victoria’s expression.
By nine that night, strangers had decided Celeste was a sociopath, Victoria was a criminal mastermind, Richard was a hero, Owen was an idiot, and Mara was either the most dignified woman in America or a calculating ex-wife who had orchestrated the entire thing.
Mara learned this because her younger sister, Jenna, arrived at her house, took Mara’s phone away, and then made the mistake of reading comments herself.
“People are deranged.”
Mara sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal she had not touched.
“Stop reading.”
“I am stopping.”
“You’re still scrolling.”
“I’m reporting someone.”
“Jenna.”
“Fine.”
Jenna put the phone facedown.
Five seconds later it buzzed.
She flipped it over.
Mara reached across the table and took it.
“You have the self-control of a raccoon.”
“That is insulting to raccoons.”
For the first time that day, Mara smiled.
It lasted maybe two seconds.
Jenna saw it and wisely did not comment.
Upstairs, Sophie slept.
Luke did not.
Mara had checked twice.
He was lying on his side with his eyes open, facing the wall.
The second time she entered, he asked whether Daddy knew where they lived.
“Yes.”
“Is he coming?”
“No.”
“Because you said no?”
“Yes.”
Luke had nodded.
Then he asked, “Can he come if you say yes?”
Mara sat on the edge of the bed.
“Eventually, we’ll figure out a safe way for you to see him if you want to.”
“If I don’t?”
“You don’t have to decide tonight.”
“If Sophie wants to?”
“We’ll figure out what each of you needs.”
“That’s not fair.”
Mara looked at him.
“What isn’t?”
“If she gets him and I don’t.”
“You can both make different choices.”
Luke frowned.
“That sounds like something Ms. Grant says.”
His school counselor.
Mara almost smiled.
“I’ll try to be less annoying.”
“You can’t.”
“Go to sleep.”
He had rolled away, but she saw the corner of his mouth move.
May you like
Now downstairs, Jenna opened the refrigerator.
“Why do you have six yogurts that are all the same flavor?”
