“One said Ellie threw a plate because she was angry.”
“What happened?”
“She dropped it.”
Another.
Ellie screamed for forty minutes.
Reality: she woke from a nightmare after dreaming about Anna.
Another.
Ellie refused dinner.
Reality: she had a stomach virus.
Another.
Ellie attacked Marissa.
Reality: the child pulled her arm away when Marissa tried to remove Anna’s necklace from her neck.
Grant pressed one hand against his mouth.
A dossier.
Marissa had been building a dossier on his six-year-old daughter.
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
He did.
Boarding school.
The doctor.
The picture Marissa wanted to take of Ellie beside the dog bowl.
Grant’s breathing became shallow.
He ended the call only after Rosa promised to send everything she had.
Then he called Patrice Howard.
Patrice had represented Grant through acquisitions, prenups, Anna’s estate, and several lawsuits.
She answered from a courtroom hallway.
“What did you break?”
“My marriage.”
Silence.
“That sounds expensive.”
“Patrice.”
Her tone changed.
“What happened?”
He told her enough.
Not everything.
Patrice interrupted only once.
“Do not confront Marissa alone until we preserve records.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“She’s my wife.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds insane.”
“So does forging household messages and creating behavioral documentation for a child.”
“We don’t know she forged anything.”
“Exactly.”
Patrice’s voice sharpened.
“So stop deciding before we verify.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“You sound like my mother.”
“Your mother sounds like me.”
“What do I do?”
“First, keep Ellie safe.”
“She is.”
“Second, preserve devices.”
“Okay.”
“Third, do not access Marissa’s private phone without authorization.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You are a billionaire husband currently furious at his wife. I am removing temptations.”
“Fine.”
“Fourth, document what Ellie told you.”
Grant looked toward the door.
“I don’t want to interrogate her.”
“Don’t.”
Patrice softened.
“Write what you already heard. Exact phrases where you remember them.”
Grant sat.
“She asked if I was sending her away.”
The line came out differently when he said it to another adult.
Patrice went quiet.
“Grant.”
“Yes?”
“Cancel the gala.”
He looked toward the clock.
“No.”
“What?”
“Anna built that foundation.”
“Your daughter matters more than eight hundred donors.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question hurt.
Grant looked through the glass door toward Ellie.
The girl was wearing the glitter boots over her pajamas now.
Evelyn was pretending this looked reasonable.
“Ellie gets to decide.”
Patrice sighed.
“That is not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Grant walked back into the family room.
Ellie held up one boot.
“They light up.”
“I see that.”
“Grandma said I can wear them tonight.”
Grant looked at his mother.
Evelyn shrugged.
“Court is adjourned.”
Grant sat beside Ellie.
“You don’t have to go tonight.”