Chapter 3: Renata's Voice
I stepped into the hallway to answer it.
"Renata.
What's wrong?"
"I need you to listen to me carefully." Her voice was flat in a way I hadn't heard since the night she told me she wanted a divorce.
Not angry.
Controlled.
"How is Juniper right now?"
"She's okay.
She had an episode.
Tabitha had her inhaler and—"
"I know."
I stopped walking.
"What do you mean you know?"
"Willa called me twenty minutes ago.
Before you got there." A pause.
"She's been calling me for three weeks, Callum.
Every time something happened that she didn't think you'd believe on its own."
I turned and looked back through the doorway.
Willa was standing near the window with Juniper on her hip, one hand smoothing my daughter's hair.
She wasn't looking at me.
She was watching Tabitha.
"Three weeks," I said.
"She kept notes.
Dates, times, what Tabitha said, what Orson said.
She photographed the inhaler pouch twice when it had been moved.
She was building a record."
"Why didn't she come to me directly?"
"She tried.
You didn't answer one night when Juniper was coughing badly.
Tabitha told Willa you'd said not to bother you after nine."
My jaw tightened.
"I never said that."
"I know you didn't."
I leaned against the wall.
Down the hall, I could hear Orson's voice, low and even, the tone he used when he was managing a situation rather than responding to one.
"Renata, what exactly is on those notes?"
"Enough." She exhaled slowly.
"Callum, I want Juniper with me tonight.
I'm not asking to change the arrangement.
I'm asking for tonight."
"I'll bring her."
"There's something else." Another pause, longer this time.
"I spoke to my solicitor this morning.
Before Willa called.
I'd been thinking about this for a while, but I didn't want to say anything until I was certain."
"Certain of what?"
"That what I suspected wasn't just me being paranoid."
"Renata."
"Orson called me," she said.
"Four weeks ago.
He told me you were struggling.
That Juniper wasn't being properly cared for when she was with you.
That he was worried about her safety in your home."
The hallway felt very still.
"He called you."
"He suggested I consider filing for a modification of the custody arrangement.
He said he'd be willing to provide a statement.
He said Tabitha would too."
I didn't speak for a moment.
Through the doorway, I watched my father pick up his jacket from the back of a chair.
Unhurried.
Like a man who had already decided how this evening would end.
"He was setting me up," I said.
"That's what it looks like."
"He wanted Juniper to have an episode serious enough that you'd move to take her from me.
And then he'd step in as the concerned grandfather with a statement ready."
"Yes."
I looked at Juniper.
She had her head on Willa's shoulder now, eyes half-closed, the colour slowly returning to her cheeks.
"I need Willa's notes," I said.
"And that recording."
"I already asked Willa to send them to me.
She did, ten minutes ago."
"Good." I pushed off the wall.
"I'm going back in there."
"Callum." Renata's voice stopped me.
"Don't lose your temper."
"I won't."
"I mean it.
The moment you lose it, they'll use it.
They're already using the sl@p."
She was right.
I knew she was right.
"I'll bring Juniper to you within the hour," I said.
I ended the call and stood in the hallway for a moment.
Then I walked back into the room.
Orson was already reaching for his coat.
"I think we all need to cool down," he said, not looking at me.
"We can talk tomorrow when—"
"Sit down, Dad."
He looked up.
May you like
"Sit.
Down."
