Chương 7
She added, “I’m still her mother. I still love her. If that bothers you, you’ll have to be bothered.”
That sounded like his mother.
He let her in.
At the courthouse, Elise sat with her attorney on the opposite side of a hallway.
She looked older than she had a week earlier.
Ethan resented noticing.
Owen was not there.
Rachel was dealing with a separate criminal investigation and had been instructed not to contact Ethan or Maya. Ethan knew little beyond that.
The hearing was shorter than he expected.
Nothing was resolved permanently.
Temporary rules were put in place.
Maya would remain primarily with Ethan while the allegations were investigated. Elise’s contact would be structured and supervised for the time being. Both parents were warned not to question Maya about the case or use her as a messenger.
Ethan had expected to feel relief.
Instead he felt nauseated.
Outside the courtroom, Elise caught up with him.
Her attorney tried to stop her.
“Elise,” the woman said.
“I just need one second.”
Ethan kept walking.
“Elise.”
He stopped because every instinct he had said not to stop and he no longer trusted instinct as much as he had a week earlier.
Elise stood six feet away.
Her hands were clasped so tightly her knuckles looked white.
“I’m going to do what they asked.”
“Okay.”
“I ended things with Owen.”
“Okay.”
“I’m starting counseling.”
He almost said okay again.
Instead he nodded.
She swallowed.
“Is Maya sleeping?”
The question surprised him.
“Not great.”
“Nightmares?”
“She wakes up.”
Elise looked down.
“She likes the hallway light on.”
“I know.”
Something hot rose in Ethan’s throat.
Of course she knew.
Elise was not a stranger.
She knew Maya hated the crust on grilled cheese. She knew which toothpaste made her gag. She knew Maya called helicopters “sky fans” until she was four. She had stayed awake through fevers. She had once driven across town at midnight because Maya left Bunny at Ethan’s apartment.
None of that erased what she had done.
That was the unbearable part.
“I need to go,” Ethan said.
Elise nodded.
Then she said, “I was scared you would be right about me.”
He looked at her.
She gave a small, bitter shrug.
“You always thought I picked people because I couldn’t be alone.”
“I said that once.”
“You said it twelve times.”
“Probably.”
“I hated you for it.”
“I know.”
“And then Owen started getting angry, and every time I thought about leaving, I could hear you saying it.”
Ethan did not speak.
“So I stayed longer.”
“That isn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Her answer landed harder because it was fair.
Elise wiped beneath one eye.
“I’m telling you because I spent months making everything about whether you would win.”
“This is not about winning.”
“It was to me.”
She looked toward the elevator.
“That was the problem.”
Her attorney called her name.
Elise walked away.
Ethan watched the elevator doors close behind her.
He did not forgive her.
He did not stop being angry.
But something changed shape.
The enemy became harder to draw.
Rachel called him from jail two weeks later.
Ethan did not answer.
She left a voicemail.
He deleted it without listening.
Then he regretted deleting it.
Then he was glad.
Then he became angry with himself for spending ten minutes thinking about a voicemail while Maya needed help finding a missing library book.
The library book was under the couch.
Maya accused Bunny of hiding it.
Ethan agreed that Bunny looked suspicious.
Maya laughed.
Ordinary life began returning in pieces so small he distrusted them.
A school morning when Maya complained about socks.
A grocery trip during which she demanded a cereal because the box had a unicorn on it.
A Wednesday evening when she cried because Ethan cut her sandwich into rectangles instead of triangles.
He almost laughed at that one.
Instead he made another sandwich.
His mother told him he was becoming ridiculous.
“She’s been through something.”
“She has.”
“So if she wants triangles—”
“She also needs a father who can tell her the world will survive a rectangular sandwich.”
Ethan looked at Maya, who was sitting at the table glaring at the offending bread.
His mother lowered her voice.
“Safe is not the same as never upset.”
He hated when other people were right.
“Fine.”
He took the second sandwich for himself.
Maya stared.
“That one’s mine.”
“You rejected the first sandwich.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Life is difficult.”
She frowned at him.
Then she ate the rectangle.
Three weeks after the incident, Detective Shaw asked Ethan to come to the station.
Dana went with him.
Investigators had obtained financial records and communications relevant to the case.
Shaw could not show him everything, but she summarized enough.
Elise had sent Rachel two electronic payments over four days totaling three thousand dollars.
The first transfer had been labeled simply Maya.
The second had no note.
More important were messages between them.
Not a perfect confession.
Something worse because of how ordinary they sounded.
Elise had written that Maya kept talking about what happened in the kitchen and that Ethan would “turn it into World War III.”
Rachel replied:
I can keep her occupied.
Later Elise wrote:
She says she’s telling him Sunday. I can’t have that happen before I figure things out.
Rachel responded:
Then figure it out faster.
A day later:
If I handle this, I need the rest of what you promised.
There were other messages.
Arguments.
Rachel asking whether Owen had actually put his hands on Maya.
Elise responding:
Not like she says.
Rachel:
That isn’t an answer.
Elise:
Just help me for a few days.
Ethan stared at the printed excerpts.
“Rachel knew.”
Shaw said nothing.
“She knew enough to ask.”
“Yes.”
“And then she took the money.”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at another page.
There was a message from Saturday morning, less than two hours before the vase.
May you like
Rachel to Elise:
She won’t stop. She keeps saying Dad believes her.
