Chương 4
By then another radio exchange had occurred in the entry hall.
Margaret’s attorney was on his way but had been delayed by the storm.
The lead officer went out to speak with her.
Daniel remained beside Emily.
Marcus asked whether she wanted Teresa upstairs.
Emily almost said no.
Then she said yes.
Teresa arrived ten minutes later wearing a housekeeping uniform beneath a thick gray cardigan. She carried a mug of warm water.
Not tea.
“Tea might keep you awake,” she said.
Emily laughed weakly.
“I think I passed awake about three days ago.”
Teresa touched her own chest.
“I remember that.”
“You have children?”
“Four.”
Emily looked genuinely shocked.
Teresa smiled.
“Exactly.”
She sat at the far end of the sofa and did not ask to hold the baby.
That alone made Emily want to give him to her.
She didn’t.
Daniel stood and walked to the fireplace.
For several minutes he stared into it while Marcus spoke quietly with him.
Emily drank the warm water.
It tasted faintly of lemon from a mug that had not been rinsed well enough.
She drank it anyway.
The police remained for almost an hour.
Margaret’s attorney arrived at 9:26, damp and furious about the road conditions. He spoke with the officers in the entry hall while Margaret stood near the elevator.
Emily saw her only once more that night.
Margaret was wearing her coat.
The gold brooch remained pinned above her heart.
Her hands were behind her back.
Emily’s stomach dropped.
The handcuffs were mostly hidden by the coat, but she heard them when Margaret moved.
Daniel stood.
The lead officer entered the room first.
“We’re taking her downstairs. She’ll be processed and released according to procedure. A judge will determine any restrictions going forward.”
Daniel asked what they were alleging.
The officer answered carefully.
Enough had occurred, he said, for them to proceed based on Emily’s statement, the physical marks and what the hallway footage showed. Any final charging decision would not be made in the penthouse.
Margaret looked past him toward Daniel.
Her face had lost its anger.
That was almost harder to see.
“Daniel.”
He took one step forward.
The officer watched him.
Margaret looked suddenly older than sixty-four.
“This is not what you think it is.”
Daniel’s voice was quiet.
“I don’t know what I think.”
Margaret’s eyes shifted to Emily.
Emily expected hatred.
What she saw instead was bewilderment.
As if Margaret genuinely could not understand how an evening she had organized so carefully had become this.
“I was trying to prevent a disaster.”
Emily’s hand moved over the baby’s back.
“You became one.”
Margaret flinched.
Emily regretted the sentence as soon as she said it.
Not because it was untrue.
Because it sounded cleaner than anything she felt.
The officer led Margaret toward the elevator.
Her shoes clicked on the walnut floor.
At the suitcase, she stepped around it.
Then she disappeared.
The elevator doors closed.
The penthouse became quiet.
Emily stared at the empty entry hall.
Daniel knelt beside her again.
This time she handed him the baby.
He took their son with both hands and held him against his chest.
The baby opened his mouth, yawned, and went back to sleep.
Daniel lowered his face into the blue blanket.
His shoulders moved once.
Emily looked away.
She did not want to see him cry.
Not yet.
At midnight, after Marcus and Teresa had left, after Daniel had checked every lock twice, after Emily had finally showered because she could still feel Margaret’s fingers around her wrist, Daniel heated soup and burned it.
Emily smelled it from the bedroom.
“Daniel.”
“I know.”
“You’re burning something.”
“I know.”
“Turn it off.”
“I did.”
Smoke reached the hallway.
The baby woke.
For the next forty minutes they moved around each other performing the stupid tasks of new parenthood while the remains of the evening sat everywhere.
A police business card on the kitchen island.
Emily’s suitcase by the fireplace.
The navy baby bag still beside the bassinet.
A half-used bottle of formula in the refrigerator.
Margaret’s untouched silver tray.
At 1:14 a.m., Emily stood in the kitchen eating crackers over the sink.
Daniel came in carrying the baby.
“I changed him.”
Emily glanced at the blanket.
“Did you?”
Daniel looked down.
The diaper was visible above the onesie.
Backward.
Emily laughed.
“No.”
“What?”
“You put it on backward.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“It has tabs.”
“Yes.”
“Tabs imply direction.”
“Apparently not strongly enough.”
He looked offended by the manufacturing industry.
Emily took the baby from him.
For thirty seconds, they were simply two exhausted people arguing about a diaper.
Then Daniel said, “I should’ve told you about the deed.”
The crackers became hard to swallow.
Emily placed one on the counter.
“Yes.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow?”
“Because the recording confirmation came through today.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He looked at the floor.
Emily waited.
Daniel sat at the kitchen table.
The penthouse windows were black mirrors behind him.
“My attorney told me yesterday that everything was done. I wanted to make sure there wasn’t some problem before I told you.”
“You transferred a home worth millions of dollars to me, and you were worried about ruining the surprise?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“The company dinner tonight.”
“What does the company dinner have to do with my name being on a deed?”
He looked at her.
“My mother was going to find out.”
Emily stopped moving.
“Why?”
“Because I told the board I’m leaving.”
The baby began rooting against her chest.
Emily stared at Daniel.
“Leaving what?”
“Hale Alpine.”
She almost smiled because the alternative was shouting.
“You’re the chief operating officer.”
“I was.”
“When?”
“My resignation becomes effective at the end of the month.”
She set the cracker down.
“You resigned.”
“Yes.”
“You transferred the penthouse.”
“Yes.”
“You did both without telling me.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“And your mother came here tonight.”
Daniel looked toward the entry hall.
