Chapter 4: The Other Thing She Said
I stopped walking.
James's hand found the small of my back.
He didn't push me forward or pull me back.
He just stayed there.
I turned around.
Dad was standing on the porch in his shirt sleeves, no coat.
The cold didn't seem to register.
He had his hands in his pockets and he was looking at me the way he used to look when I was a child and he had broken something he couldn't fix.
"Come back inside," he said.
"Tell me from there."
He glanced back through the front door.
Then he stepped down off the porch and walked toward us across the frozen grass.
"Lauren didn't just tell me about the paternity concern," he said.
He stopped a few feet away.
"She also told me she thought you were unstable."
I heard James exhale slowly beside me.
"Unstable," I repeated.
"After Emma was born.
She said you were struggling.
That you weren't coping.
She said she was worried about Emma's safety." Dad's voice was steady but his eyes weren't.
"She said she had been thinking about whether someone should make a call."
"A call to who?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Dad.
A call to who?"
"Child services," he said.
"She said she hadn't done it yet.
She said she was giving you a chance to get help first."
The cold hit me all at once.
Not the air.
Something deeper.
"She was going to report me," I said.
"For what?
For having a baby?
For being tired?"
"She told me you had left Emma alone in a room and she had found her crying for a long time.
She said it had happened more than once."
"That is not true."
"I know."
"James was deployed.
I was alone with a newborn.
I was exhausted.
Every new mother is exhausted.
That is not neglect."
"I know, Claire."
"Then why are you telling me this like it's a confession instead of a crime?"
Dad flinched.
"Because I believed her.
For a few weeks, I believed her.
And I said nothing to you.
And I am standing here telling you now because if I don't, I will never be able to look at myself again."
Emma had fallen asleep against my shoulder.
Her weight was warm and solid and real.
James spoke first.
"How long has Lauren been building this?"
Dad looked at him.
"I think since before Emma was born."
"Why?" I asked.
"Why would she do this?"
Dad was quiet for a moment.
"You know why," he said softly.
I did know.
I had known for years and pushed it down and called it something else.
Called it jealousy.
Called it Lauren being difficult.
Called it family, because family was supposed to mean you kept trying.
"The will," I said.
Dad nodded once.
Three years ago, our grandparents had passed within months of each other.
They had left their estate — the house, the accounts, everything — to be divided between their grandchildren when the youngest grandchild reached adulthood.
Emma, born last, had reset that clock.
Lauren had been waiting for her inheritance for years.
Emma's birth had pushed it back another eighteen.
"She thought if she could get Emma removed from the family — " I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Or get you declared unfit," Dad said.
"Either way, Emma would no longer count as a legal heir."
The silence between us was enormous.
"Does Mom know this part?" James asked.
"No."
"Uncle Frank?"
"No."
James turned and looked back at the house.
Through the dining room window, I could see the shapes of people still at the table.
Lauren's silhouette.
Her head turned slightly, watching.
"She's watching us right now," I said.
"Yes," Dad said.
James looked at me.
"We need a lawyer."
"Yes," I said.
Dad reached out and put his hand briefly on my arm.
"I'm sorry, Claire.
I should have come to you the moment she told me.
I should never have — "
"I can't do this right now." I stepped back gently.
Not unkindly.
But firmly.
"I need to get Emma home."
We got into the car.
James started the engine.
The heater came on slowly.
I looked back at the house one more time as we pulled out of the driveway.
Lauren had moved to the window.
She was standing in the light, watching us go.
She wasn't smiling.
May you like
But she didn't look worried either.
That was the part that scared me most.
