Chapter 6
Dad sat down like his knees had stopped working.
The house that had survived shouting, police, crying, and Rebecca’s threats suddenly could not survive that sentence.
Emily was planning to leave you.
I looked at Aunt Sarah.
Then Dad.
Then Ella.
My sister did not understand all of it, but she understood enough to start crying again.
Dad stared at the floor.
“No,” he whispered.
Aunt Sarah wiped her face.
“Mark, I didn’t want to say it like that.”
“But you did.”
“Because Rebecca was going to use it against you.”
Dad looked up.
Pain had changed his whole face.
“Why?”
Aunt Sarah hugged herself.
“Because after the company audit started, Emily felt unsafe. She thought someone close to you was stealing. She thought if she told you, you would protect the wrong person.”
“Graham,” Dad said.
Aunt Sarah nodded.
“And Rebecca.”
Dad shook his head.
“I didn’t know Rebecca then.”
“You met her at the foundation gala before Emily died.”
Dad went still.
I remembered that night only in pieces.
Mom in a blue dress.
Dad laughing with people I did not know.
Me hiding under a dessert table with chocolate on my fingers.
A woman bending down to ask my name.
Blonde hair.
Soft voice.
Rebecca.
My chest tightened.
Dad whispered, “I spoke to her for five minutes.”
“Emily saw her talking to Graham for much longer.”
Dad looked toward Mom’s room.
“She thought I wouldn’t believe her.”
Aunt Sarah did not answer.
She did not have to.
Dad covered his face.
I had never seen him look small before.
Not even at Mom’s funeral.
Back then he had been stiff and silent, like grief had turned him to stone.
Now he looked broken open.
I wanted to stay angry.
I deserved to.
But seeing Dad understand how much Mom had feared being unheard made something inside me ache.
Because I knew that feeling.
I had lived it.
The older officer returned to the porch a few minutes later.
His name was Officer Daniels.
He asked if we had somewhere else to stay that night.
Dad looked confused.
“This is our home.”
Officer Daniels glanced at the engagement photos on the mantel.
“Until we know who has keys, access codes, and legal authority tied to this residence, I recommend you stay with family.”
Aunt Sarah straightened.
“They can come with me.”
Dad looked at her.
The old fight moved between them.
I felt it even though I did not know its shape.
Aunt Sarah’s voice softened.
“Mark, this is not about us.”
Dad looked at Ella, then me.
“You’re right.”
We packed fast.
Ella took her stuffed bear.
I took Mom’s box.
Dad took nothing but his laptop and the folder Rebecca had made about me.
Before we left, he removed Rebecca’s framed photo from the mantel.
He stared at it for a long second.
Then he turned it facedown.
Aunt Sarah lived twenty minutes away in a small brick house with wind chimes on the porch.
It smelled like cinnamon and laundry soap.
The moment we stepped inside, Ella relaxed for the first time all day.
Aunt Sarah made grilled cheese.
Dad tried to help and burned the first one.
Ella laughed.
It was tiny.
But it was real.
Dad looked like he might cry from the sound.
After dinner, Aunt Sarah set us up in the guest room.
Ella fell asleep against my arm.
I stayed awake.
Through the wall, I heard Dad and Aunt Sarah talking in the kitchen.
I knew I should not listen.
I listened anyway.
“I failed them,” Dad said.
Aunt Sarah’s voice was tired.
“Yes.”
The truth landed hard.
She did not soften it.
Dad was quiet for a long time.
“I loved Emily.”
“I know.”
“Then why did she think she had to run?”
“Because love does not help if you will not listen.”
I closed my eyes.
Aunt Sarah kept going.
“She tried to tell you Graham was moving money. You said he had been your friend since college.”
Dad said nothing.
“She tried to tell you Rebecca made her uncomfortable. You said she was being unfair.”
A chair scraped.
“I thought grief changed Connor,” Dad said.
“No,” Aunt Sarah said. “Rebecca changed the way you saw him.”
I pressed my fist to my mouth.
Dad’s voice broke.
“How do I fix that?”
“You start by believing him even when it hurts you.”
I turned away from the wall.
Ella stirred.
“Connor?” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
“Is Daddy mad?”
“No.”
“Is Miss Wells coming back?”
I looked at the dark ceiling.
“No.”
I wanted that to be true.
The next morning, Dad’s phone rang before sunrise.
He answered in the hallway.
I heard only a few words.
Court order.
Emergency custody.
Petition filed.
Then Dad burst into the guest room.
His face was pale.
“Get dressed.”
Aunt Sarah appeared behind him.
“What happened?”
Dad looked at me and Ella.
Then at the phone in his hand.
“Rebecca and Graham filed paperwork last night claiming I am unstable and the children are unsafe with me.”
Ella sat up, trembling.
May you like
Dad swallowed hard.
“They are asking the court to place you in temporary protective care.”
