Chương 5
“Requested or required?”
“Requested. I agreed because otherwise Victoria would keep claiming the child wasn’t Michael’s.”
“Was she already saying that?”
“For months.”
“Publicly?”
“No. Family. Lawyers. Anyone trapped near a dinner table.”
Ortiz lifted her eyes.
“Did that affect inheritance?”
“Possibly. The trust documents are complicated, and I don’t want to pretend I understand them better than the lawyers. Michael’s biological children may have rights or benefits under certain family arrangements. Eleanor also wants to create something separate for the baby.”
“Victoria loses money if that happens?”
“Not exactly.”
Ava stopped.
She could hear Daniel’s voice in her head.
Answer the question that was asked.
Not the question you think is safer.
“She believes she does.”
Ortiz nodded.
“Was the report at Eleanor’s house?”
“Yes. I gave a sealed copy to Eleanor yesterday because she wanted her own counsel to review it.”
“And you believe Victoria opened it?”
“She told me she did.”
“Before the shove, did she threaten you physically?”
“No.”
“Had she ever hit you?”
“No.”
“Threatened to?”
“No.”
“Blocked you from leaving?”
“Tonight, yes.”
Ava described the landing.
The phone.
Victoria stepping closer.
The shoulder.
Her foot missing the stair.
Ortiz asked which hand Victoria used.
Ava closed her eyes.
Right.
She thought right.
Then she saw burgundy velvet, the glint of an earring, Eleanor’s fingers on the rail.
“I’m not sure.”
“Good.”
Ava opened her eyes.
Ortiz gave a slight shrug.
“People think certainty sounds believable. Sometimes uncertainty is more accurate.”
That sentence stayed with Ava.
Ortiz asked whether Ava wanted to make a formal complaint.
There was a knock.
A nurse entered to adjust the monitor and check Ava’s blood pressure.
The interruption lasted two minutes.
It gave Ava time to become afraid.
Not of Victoria.
Of what came next.
Formal complaint.
Charges.
Statements.
Lawyers.
Possibly court.
Family acquaintances learning details.
Reporters discovering Daniel Cross’s wife was pregnant with the biological child of her late first husband.
Michael’s name dragged into headlines.
The embryos.
The trust.
Every private decision converted into public entertainment.
Ava’s hand moved over her belly again.
Ortiz waited.
“I do,” Ava said.
The words came out quietly.
Ortiz nodded once.
“All right.”
When Daniel returned, he did not ask what she had decided.
He sat beside the bed.
Ava said, “I made the complaint.”
His eyes closed for less than a second.
Relief.
Then he opened them.
“Okay.”
“You don’t get to say I told you so.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were going to think it loudly.”
“I’m allowed private thoughts.”
“You barely have those.”
His mouth twitched.
At eleven thirty, Eleanor arrived.
Ava almost told the nurse not to let her in.
Then she changed her mind.
Eleanor entered alone.
Without the teal dress and careful posture of the mansion, she looked older. She had changed into black pants and a gray cashmere sweater. Her short silver hair was still neat, but her face had gone flat with exhaustion.
She stopped just inside the room.
Daniel rose.
“Ava?”
Ava nodded.
Daniel walked out.
Eleanor watched him go.
“I owe him an apology.”
“You owe several people several things.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
That made Ava more uncomfortable than one would have.
Eleanor sat.
For a while they listened to the fetal monitor.
Then Eleanor said, “Victoria was arrested.”
Ava looked at her.
“She was released pending further proceedings. Her lawyer drove her to her apartment.”
“What did she say?”
“That you lost your balance.”
Ava stared at Eleanor.
Eleanor’s mouth tightened.
“She said she reached for you.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Eleanor looked at her.
Ava hated the cruelty in the question almost immediately.
But she did not take it back.
Eleanor folded her hands.
“I told the police what I saw.”
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
Eleanor did not answer.
Ava looked away.
There it was.
The quiet truth nobody at the Bennett house had wanted to name.
Victoria had not become the woman who pushed an eight-month-pregnant person down a staircase in one evening.
She had been becoming someone for years.
And Eleanor had been editing the evidence.
Not lying exactly.
Softening.
Reframing.
Victoria was under stress.
Victoria took things personally.
Victoria and Michael had always competed.
Victoria’s business had suffered.
Victoria struggled after her divorce.
Victoria felt excluded.
Victoria felt replaced.
Victoria said terrible things, yes, but she did not mean all of them.
Victoria borrowed money without asking, but she intended to repay it.
Victoria read private messages, but the family had never been very formal about privacy.
Victoria called Ava a grave robber after the embryo transfer, but grief made people say strange things.
Each incident had been packaged separately.
Never stacked.
Never allowed to form a shape.
Eleanor stared at the floor.
“I don’t know what happens tomorrow,” she said.
Ava had never heard her say those words.
Eleanor Bennett always knew what happened tomorrow.
She had calendars printed six months in advance and kept emergency phone chargers in labeled drawers.
“I know what I saw tonight,” Eleanor continued. “I know what I said to the police. I will not change it.”
Ava watched her.
“Victoria will ask you to.”
“I know.”
“She’ll cry.”
“I know.”
“She’ll tell you her life is over.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
Just slightly.
That one landed.
“She’ll tell you I caused this.”
“Yes.”
“She’ll tell you Daniel is using his influence.”
“Yes.”
“She’ll tell you Michael would hate me.”
Eleanor looked up sharply.
Ava’s throat tightened.
“That’s the one she’ll use.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled, but no tears fell.
“Yes,” she said.
Ava nodded.
The baby kicked against the monitor.
Both women looked down.
For a second, all the money vanished.
All the legal documents.
All the anger.
There was only a firm little movement beneath hospital cotton.
Eleanor let out a breath.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she whispered.
Ava almost broke then.
Not at the staircase.
Not with the police.
May you like
Not while wondering if contractions meant something terrible.
At Eleanor’s ridiculous, formal greeting to an unborn child.
