His hand stopped.
“Tell what?”
Nothing.
“Sophie?”
Claire spoke behind him.
“She is trying to manipulate you.”
Ethan stood.
“Where is the key?”
Claire looked toward the kitchen.
He did not wait.
He walked past her.
Opened the junk drawer.
Nothing.
Second drawer.
Nothing.
He pulled open the small cabinet where house keys were stored.
Claire followed.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
“Give me the key.”
“You’re frightening her.”
His mouth opened in disbelief.
“I’m frightening her?”
“You’re making this into something it isn’t.”
“What is it?”
“A time-out.”
“You locked a five-year-old inside a dark storage room.”
“The light is on.”
Ethan stared.
As if illumination changed the sentence.
Claire continued.
“She can sit down. There’s ventilation. Nothing dangerous is accessible.”
“How long do you leave her there?”
“Until she calms down.”
“How long?”
“It depends.”
“HOW LONG?”
Claire flinched.
“Sometimes ten minutes.”
“And sometimes?”
She looked away.
His stomach turned.
“Claire.”
“Twenty.”
Ethan felt dizzy.
“She is five.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because every time I try to set a boundary, you destroy it.”
Ethan laughed once.
It sounded nothing like humor.
“Where is the key?”
Claire walked toward the counter.
Opened her handbag.
Took out a small brass key.
She held it.
Ethan reached.
Claire did not release it immediately.
He looked at her.
She let go.
Ethan returned to the closet.
His hands shook enough that the key scraped twice against the lock before going in.
He turned it.
Opened the door.
Sophie almost fell forward.
She was wearing a pale yellow dress.
Her brown hair had been tied into two pigtails with cream bows, but one had partly come loose. Her face was wet from crying. Her cheeks were blotchy.
She reached for Ethan.
He lifted her.
Sophie locked both arms around his neck.
Her bare legs wrapped around his waist.
“You came home.”
The sentence destroyed him.
“Yes.”
He kissed the side of her head.
“I came home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
He pulled back enough to see her.
“You do not have to apologize.”
Sophie’s eyes immediately moved past him.
Toward Claire.
Her entire body tightened.
Ethan felt it.
He turned.
Claire stood at the end of the hallway.
“She threw a glass.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
Claire continued.
“She screamed at me.”
“No!”
“She called me a liar.”
“You are!”
“Sophie.”
Ethan’s voice was automatic.
The child stopped.
Her face changed.
Fear again.
Ethan heard himself.
That reflexive parental warning.
He hated it.
“Sorry.”
He adjusted her in his arms.
“Tell me what happened.”
Sophie looked at Claire.
Then buried her face against Ethan’s shoulder.
Claire exhaled.
“You cannot interrogate her while she’s hysterical.”
Ethan stared.
“I’m not interrogating her.”
“You’re asking her to choose sides.”