He stopped when he saw Claire.
His expression changed immediately.
“Claire.”
She stared.
Nathan looked toward Lily.
Then the open linen-room door visible behind them.
His face lost color.
“You're home.”
Claire descended one step.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
She almost laughed.
The audacity of the question.
“What happened?”
Nathan looked toward Lily.
“Sweetheart.”
Lily tightened her arms around Claire’s neck.
Nathan saw.
Pain crossed his face.
Then defensiveness replaced it.
“She was having a meltdown.”
Claire stared.
“So you locked her in a closet?”
“It’s not a closet.”
The words came automatically.
Nathan immediately closed his eyes.
Claire felt cold.
“What did you just say?”
“I mean it isn't—”
“Finish that sentence.”
“Claire.”
“You locked our five-year-old daughter inside a windowless room.”
“It was a timeout.”
“There is a bolt on the outside.”
“I know.”
“You locked it.”
“Yes.”
Lily started trembling again.
Claire felt it.
Nathan lifted both hands.
“Can we not do this in front of her?”
Claire almost agreed.
Then Lily whispered:
“He says that too.”
Both parents froze.
Claire looked at her daughter.
“What?”
Lily's face disappeared into her shoulder again.
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“Lily.”
Claire turned.
“No.”
He stopped.
“Do not correct her.”
“I wasn't.”
“Yes, you were.”
Nathan looked toward the floor.
Claire walked past him.
She did not scream.
Not because she felt calm.
Because every instinct told her to get Lily away from the hallway.
“I'm taking her to my mother’s.”
Nathan turned.
“Claire.”
“Move.”
“I need to explain.”
“Not while she is shaking.”
“I wasn't hurting her.”
Claire stopped.
Nathan immediately knew it was the wrong sentence.
She stared at him.
“Move.”
He did.
Claire carried Lily into the kitchen.
Nathan followed at a distance.
“What do you need?”
Claire looked at him.
“Nothing from you.”
“Her shoes are—”
“I know where her shoes are.”
“Claire.”
She set Lily on a kitchen chair while she grabbed sneakers from the mudroom.
Lily reached for Claire's hand the second she returned.
Nathan stood near the counter.
His face looked increasingly desperate.
“Lily.”
The little girl would not look at him.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you got scared.”
Claire stopped tying the shoe.