Chương 2
“Fine,” Emily said. “Check the baby first.”
The nurse nodded.
Daniel looked at Margaret.
“You’re staying right there.”
Margaret gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“I’m not one of your employees.”
“No. Employees get warnings.”
The nurse’s eyes moved down very quickly.
Emily almost laughed.
It came out as a painful breath instead.
Margaret looked at her son as if he had spoken in a language she recognized but considered beneath him.
“You have no idea what she’s done.”
Daniel turned away from her.
That was worse than shouting.
He put one hand lightly at Emily’s back while the nurse retrieved the wheelchair. One front wheel had twisted sideways but still moved.
The beige overnight bag remained hanging from the handle.
Emily stared at it.
She had packed that bag six weeks early.
One pair of pajamas.
A toothbrush.
Phone charger.
Hair ties.
Two nursing bras.
A book she had never opened.
Three packets of peanut-butter crackers she had eaten during the first night after delivery when the cafeteria was closed and Daniel was asleep with his head against the window.
Nothing dramatic.
That was the strange thing about disaster.
It rarely arrived carrying the right props.
The nurse placed a fresh wheelchair beside Emily.
“We’ll use another one.”
“I can walk.”
“Mrs. Carter—”
“I can walk.”
Daniel touched her shoulder.
She looked at him.
His anger was still there. She could see it in the tight muscle near his jaw. But beneath it was something else.
Fear.
Not about the fall.
About the sentence Margaret had spoken.
Whose baby that is.
Emily looked at him.
He held her gaze.
And she understood that whatever he meant when he had told Margaret, You haven’t, he had not been bluffing.
The elevator chimed again.
Two visitors stepped out, saw the group, and immediately lowered their voices.
Hospital life continued around them.
It almost made the moment worse.
The nurse led Emily back toward the maternity unit.
Daniel walked beside her.
Margaret followed.
“Don’t,” Daniel said without turning.
She stopped.
“Daniel.”
He faced her.
“You assaulted my wife while she was holding my daughter.”
“I moved a wheelchair.”
“You kicked it into her.”
“I did not intend—”
“You did it.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
Her handbag slipped slightly from her shoulder. She corrected it.
For years, Emily had watched Margaret do that whenever control threatened to escape her. Adjust the bag. Touch the pearl. Smooth a cuff. Tiny acts of housekeeping performed on herself.
Margaret looked past Daniel at Emily.
“You need to ask her what happened in Boston.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
Daniel did not turn around.
“I know what happened in Boston.”
Margaret blinked.
Emily did too.
Daniel said, “Go home.”
Then he walked away.
Emily waited until they reached the maternity doors before speaking.
“What do you know?”
Daniel pressed the access button.
A nurse buzzed them through.
“Not here.”
“You just told your mother—”
“I know.”
“You said you know what happened in Boston.”
“I know.”
“What does that mean?”
He rubbed his forehead.
For the first time since stepping out of the elevator, he looked tired.
Not angry.
Not controlled.
Tired.
“Can we make sure Lucy’s okay first?”
Emily stared at him.
Then at their daughter.
“Yes.”
The evaluation took forty-three minutes.
Emily knew because she watched the clock.
Lucy was examined by a pediatrician who spoke gently and moved with maddening calm. No signs of injury. Normal reflexes. Normal breathing. Normal heart rate. No concerning response to touch.
Emily’s hip was bruised but not fractured. Her knee was scraped. Her blood pressure, which had finally settled before discharge, climbed high enough that the nurse repeated it three times.
Daniel stood near the window throughout most of the exam.
He answered messages.
He did not look at his phone while answering them.
Emily noticed because Daniel usually read every message twice before sending it, including texts like yes and on my way.
When the pediatrician left, Emily adjusted the pale-blue blanket around Lucy.
“Who are you texting?”
“Security.”
“For what?”
“To preserve the corridor footage.”
Emily looked up.
Daniel slipped his phone into his pocket.
“You already did that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
She immediately regretted the question.
“Right.”
He pulled the visitor chair closer but did not sit.
Emily said, “Now tell me.”
“Em.”
“No. Don’t Em me.”
He nodded once.
That was one of the things she had loved about him at the beginning. Daniel rarely pretended not to understand a boundary.
He sat.
Lucy’s tiny hand escaped the blanket.
Emily touched one finger against the palm.
The hand closed reflexively.
Daniel watched.
Then he said, “About six weeks ago, my mother hired someone to look into you.”
Emily stared at him.
“What?”
“I found out because the invoice went through a Carter Holdings account she still has access to.”
“What kind of someone?”
“A private investigator.”
Emily laughed.
She didn’t mean to.
It sounded ugly.
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Your mother hired a private investigator to investigate me while I was eight months pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Daniel looked toward the closed door.
“No.”
The answer landed differently from everything else.
Emily shifted Lucy against her chest.
“Why?”
“I wanted to know what she was looking for before I scared you.”
“You wanted to manage it.”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“Those are not the same thing.”
“No.”
He said it immediately.
That disarmed her more than an argument would have.
Emily looked away.
Outside the room, someone rolled a cart down the hall. Its wheels squeaked in a repeating rhythm.
“What did she find?”
Daniel rested his forearms on his knees.
“You worked for Brenner & Cole in Boston.”
“Yes.”
“You left after eleven months.”
“Yes.”
“You told me the job was a disaster.”
“It was.”
“You told me your boss was sleeping with an associate.”
“He was.”
“You didn’t tell me you were the associate.”
Emily felt the room become very still.
May you like
Lucy made a small noise.
Emily adjusted her automatically.
