Chương 3
“You have photographs. You have a child’s statement.”
“We have an injured woman who needs medical care,” the deputy said. “Take care of that. We’ll take care of our part.”
“You’re leaving him here.”
“For now.”
Richard stepped closer.
Rebecca caught his sleeve. “Dad.”
He looked down at her hand as if surprised she had touched him.
“Hospital,” she said.
The paramedics secured her on the stretcher only after she refused twice and the older woman explained that walking across the gravel with a child in her arms was not proof of strength. Emma sat beside her in the ambulance. The doors closed on Richard’s face, pale in the red light.
During the ride, Emma asked whether the baby could hear sirens.
“I think so,” Rebecca said.
“Does it hurt his ears?”
“We don’t know if the baby is a him.”
Emma frowned at this technicality. “Does it hurt the baby’s ears?”
“No, sweetheart.”
The paramedic checked Rebecca’s blood pressure. “Your baby is well protected in there.”
Emma considered that. “Mommy protected the baby.”
Rebecca turned toward the window.
The ambulance passed the stone walls and the clipped hedges she had approved without seeing. Trevor had shown her photographs from a landscape designer and asked whether she preferred boxwood or yew. She had said boxwood because he was waiting. Six months later she learned that the hedges were yew. She had not noticed.
At the hospital, a nurse took Emma to a family room with Richard while Rebecca was examined. Richard objected until Rebecca told him to stop objecting. The nurse closed the curtain behind her.
The baby’s heartbeat was strong. The sound filled the small room, rapid and mechanical, and Rebecca began crying with her hands flat on the paper sheet.
The obstetric resident waited.
Rebecca apologized.
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
The resident handed her tissues. “You don’t have to.”
A dentist repaired the sharp edge of her tooth temporarily. Imaging showed no fracture in her jaw. The obstetric team monitored her for several hours because of stress and a tenderness she had not noticed until someone asked. A social worker named Denise sat beside the bed and spoke without pity.
“Where can you stay tonight?”
“My father’s house.”
“Is that safe from your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Is it safe for you?”
Rebecca looked at her.
Denise did not fill the silence.
“My father doesn’t hit people,” Rebecca said.
“That wasn’t exactly my question.”
Despite the swelling, Rebecca smiled a little. It hurt.
“My father takes over.”
“Can you tell him not to?”
“I did today.”
“Did he listen?”
“Eventually.”
Denise nodded as if that counted for something but not enough. She explained that a domestic-violence advocate could help Rebecca consider immediate safety arrangements, court options, transportation, communication, and the practical problem of returning for belongings. She did not tell Rebecca what to do. This was almost suspicious.
“I have lawyers,” Rebecca said.
“Your father has lawyers.”
“So do I.”
“Do you know their names?”
Rebecca did not answer.
Denise wrote a phone number on a card and placed it beside Rebecca’s handbag. “You get to choose who represents you. You also get to change your mind.”
Richard entered after nine with Emma asleep against his chest. He had removed his tie. His silver hair, usually exact, had separated above one temple. He looked older than he had at the door.
“The deputy called,” he said. “They arrested Trevor.”
Rebecca gripped the edge of the blanket.
“On what charge?”
“Domestic assault. They found him trying to leave through the service gate.”
“He said he was going to his attorney,” Richard added, as if the distinction offended him.
Emma stirred. Richard immediately lowered his voice.
“They’re holding him until morning. David has already prepared—”
“Who is David?”
“David Kessler. Family counsel.”
“I don’t want family counsel.”
“Rebecca.”
“I want my own lawyer.”
Richard’s mouth closed.
Denise stood near the sink, pretending to examine the handwashing instructions.
“You are not thinking clearly,” Richard said.
“Then why are you asking me to make decisions through your lawyer?”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
The words came out tired rather than angry, which made them harder for him to argue with.
Richard looked down at Emma. One white shoe had fallen off. He found it on the chair and held it in his free hand.
“Fine,” he said. “Your own lawyer. But security is not optional.”
“It is if I’m the person being secured.”
His face tightened. “He hit you while you were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And he threatened to take Emma.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to go home and wait for your instructions?”
Rebecca touched her repaired tooth with her tongue. “I expect you to ask before you lock me in another house.”
Richard flinched as though she had struck him.
Denise stepped toward the door. “I’ll give you a minute.”
“No,” Rebecca said. “Please stay.”
Her father’s eyes moved from her to the social worker. He seemed to understand, then, that he was no longer the unquestioned authority in the room.
He sat carefully in the chair beside the bed.
“What do you need?” he asked.
The question sounded unnatural in his mouth.
Rebecca looked at Emma asleep against him. “I need somewhere Trevor can’t enter. I need my phone replaced because he broke it. I need a lawyer who doesn’t work for you. I need someone to go back for Emma’s rabbit blanket and her medicine. And I need you not to call anyone in the press, the company, or the family until I say.”
Richard stared at the floor for several seconds.
“All right.”
“You mean it?”
“I said all right.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
May you like
His tiredness showed then, not as softness but as a small failure of posture. “I mean it.”
Rebecca was discharged shortly before midnight. They drove to Richard’s house in separate cars because the hospital had given her medication and because Emma woke screaming when anyone tried to move her away. Rebecca sat in the back of Richard’s sedan with Emma across her lap, though the child was too large to fit comfortably. The driver kept his eyes on the road and the radio off.
