Chương 4
“She decided.”
“She filed papers. That starts a process.”
Sophie pressed her face into the collar of his jacket. “I ruined Christmas.”
“No.”
“If I’d kept quiet—”
“No.”
“You and Claire wouldn’t—”
“Stop.” The word came sharper than Daniel intended. Sophie flinched. He saw it and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. But don’t carry that. The papers were already in the folder.”
She stared at the windshield.
Daniel’s mouth tightened. “Claire had them prepared before dinner. Whatever happens between her and me belongs to us.”
“Did you know she was unhappy?”
“Yes.”
“Did you care?”
He did not answer immediately.
“That’s not simple,” he said.
Claire had accused him of saying that whenever a direct answer would make him uncomfortable. Sophie had heard the arguments through walls: Claire asking where he had been, Daniel saying there had been a work problem; Claire saying he treated emergencies like invitations, Daniel saying tenants could not sleep in unheated apartments; Claire saying her family had carried his business, Daniel saying nothing for so long that silence became another kind of insult.
“Where are we going?” Sophie asked.
Daniel looked at the fuel gauge.
“First, somewhere warm. Then I need to make two calls.”
They stopped at a twenty-four-hour diner near the interstate. Only four cars occupied the lot. A blue neon snowflake blinked in the front window, losing one point every few seconds.
Inside, the air smelled of coffee and fried onions. A waitress in a red apron looked at Sophie’s bare legs, then at Daniel’s wet turtleneck.
“Honey, sit near the radiator,” she said.
They took a booth beneath a paper garland. Daniel asked for hot chocolate and soup for Sophie, black coffee for himself, and a clean towel. The waitress brought the towel before entering the order.
Sophie went to the restroom. In the mirror, her eyes were swollen and red. Damp hair clung to her cheeks. Daniel’s jacket hung almost to her knees. She pressed warm water over her fingers until the pain returned in sharp pulses.
When she came back, Daniel was on the phone.
“No, she’s safe,” he said. “Cold, but warming up.”
A pause.
“I’m not going to the house tonight.”
He listened, eyes on the untouched coffee.
“Because she was locked outside, Miriam. I have a witness, possibly more than one. I also have whatever Claire put in this folder.”
Another pause.
“Yes. Preserve everything.”
Sophie slid into the booth.
Daniel ended the call.
“Who was that?”
“My attorney.”
“You have an attorney?”
“I own a company.”
She almost laughed, but the sound came out wrong.
The waitress placed hot chocolate in front of her and looked at Daniel. “Soup’s coming. Kitchen’s slower than it ought to be. Gary’s arguing with the fryer again.”
“That’s all right,” Daniel said.
The waitress glanced at Sophie. “You need a blanket? We keep one in the office.”
“I’m okay.”
“She’ll take it,” Daniel said.
Sophie gave him an irritated look.
He raised one eyebrow. It was the first familiar expression he had made since arriving at the mansion.
The waitress returned with a faded fleece blanket printed with cartoon moose. Sophie wrapped it around her legs beneath the table. She disliked the childish pattern and loved the warmth.
Daniel opened the manila folder.
The first page carried Claire’s full name and his, printed above the words Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. A paper clip held a business card from a family-law firm. Several colored tabs marked financial disclosures, separate property, occupancy of the marital residence, and temporary support.
Daniel read each page without changing expression.
“Are you angry?” Sophie asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look angry.”
“I am.”
“At Claire?”
“At several people.”
“Me?”
“No.”
“Yourself?”
His eyes lifted from the papers.
“Yes.”
The soup arrived. Sophie held the spoon between stiff fingers.
Daniel closed the folder. “Eat.”
She tried. The first mouthful was too hot. She swallowed anyway.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Tonight, we get a hotel room.”
“We have a house.”
“The house is in Claire’s name, and she may have changed the codes. I’m not taking you into another confrontation.”
“My clothes are there.”
“We’ll replace what you need.”
“My laptop.”
“We’ll arrange to collect it.”
“My mom’s picture is in my room.”
Daniel looked down at the folder.
“We’ll get it.”
Sophie’s mother, Rachel, had died when Sophie was eight. Not suddenly, not in a way that allowed the family to preserve her as a perfect person. She had been sick for almost two years. There had been arguments about medication, bills, Daniel’s work hours, and whether Sophie was old enough to know how serious things had become. After Rachel died, Daniel kept one photograph on his dresser and stored the rest in a box because seeing them everywhere made it hard for him to enter a room.
Claire had helped him open the box again.
That fact did not disappear because she had watched a door close on Sophie.
The contradiction made Sophie’s stomach hurt.
Daniel took out his phone and sent a message. “I’m arranging a room near the office.”
“Why near the office?”
“Because that’s where we’re going after you warm up.”
“Tonight?”
“I need to look at something.”
Sophie pushed the soup away. “The company?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do to them?”
Daniel studied her.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You looked like you knew.”
“That was anger.”
“So you’re not going to fire everybody?”
“No.”
“Martin said forty-seven people in his family work for you.”
“Martin says many things.”
“How many?”
“I’m going to find out.”
She watched him drink the coffee. He made a face. It had gone cold, but he drank it anyway.
“Does Claire know you’re the founder?”
“She knows I founded Whitaker Building Systems.”
“She acts like you fix sinks for strangers.”
“I do fix sinks for strangers.”
“You know what I mean.”
May you like
Daniel turned the cup between his hands. “Claire knows the company survived. I don’t think she understands what it became.”
“How could she not?”
