Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I believe you.”
“But I said I didn’t.”
“Yes.”
“I lied.”
“Yes.”
Sophie looked frightened.
Ethan took a breath.
“Why?”
“She said if I said I broke it, you’d be mad.”
“Claire?”
Sophie nodded.
“Then why did you say you didn’t?”
“Because she was already mad.”
Ethan thought carefully.
“Accidents still have consequences.”
Sophie nodded.
“You tell someone.”
Another nod.
“You help clean.”
“Yes.”
“But you do not get locked in a closet.”
The girl’s eyes filled.
“No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
“What if I break your computer?”
Ethan almost smiled.
“You would experience a very long conversation.”
“Closet?”
“No.”
“What if I break the TV?”
“No closet.”
“Grandma’s blue vase?”
Ethan winced.
“Your grandmother might suggest prison.”
Sophie giggled.
There.
A breath.
Ethan smiled.
Then became serious.
“You lied about the glass.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll talk about that.”
Her smile vanished.
“But telling the truth about one thing does not mean Claire gets to decide everything else you said is false.”
Sophie stared.
He was not sure a five-year-old understood.
That did not matter.
He needed to say it.
The side door opened.
Claire returned.
Her face had changed.
Calmer.
Too calm.
“My attorney is coming.”
Ethan nodded.
“Good.”
She looked surprised.
“You’re okay with that?”
“Yes.”
“I think you should call yours.”
“I will.”
“I am not leaving my home.”
Sophie immediately stiffened.
Ethan felt it.
Claire saw.
For a second something like hurt crossed her face.
Then anger.
“She cannot control where I live.”
Ethan stood.
“She isn’t.”
“You are because she cried.”
“No.”
Ethan’s voice became quiet.
“I am because I found my daughter locked in a storage room.”
Claire looked toward Sophie.
“I never hurt her.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“She is afraid of you.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
He nodded.
“It isn’t.”
Claire seemed almost relieved.
Then Ethan continued.
“It is still enough for me to take seriously.”
Her face fell.
Ethan called his mother.
Margaret Mercer answered from Florida.
“What happened?”
He had not said anything yet.
Mothers sometimes knew.
“Can you come home?”
Silence.
“Is Sophie all right?”
“She’s with me.”
“That means no.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m booking a flight.”
“You don’t know what happened.”
“I know my son sounds like he did when Rachel died.”
He could not answer.
Margaret arrived that evening.
Claire’s attorney arrived first.
So did Ethan’s.
By then Sophie was upstairs with Rosa Martinez, the family’s longtime housekeeper, who had come in early after Ethan called.
Rosa heard about the closet.
Her face collapsed.
Ethan noticed.
“You knew.”