His jaw tightened. “Ellen—” “He let a sixteen-year-old girl take the blame for something he did. He watched me grieve for five years. He stood at our daughter’s grave.” My voice stayed level. I needed it to stay level. “He is still in my house.” Marcus looked at the table for a long moment. “If I do this,” he said slowly, “it ends everything. My family—” “Your family ended the night he made that phone call,” I said. “You’ve just been pretending otherwise.” The kitchen was very quiet. Then Marcus stood up and walked to the counter. He opened a drawer and removed a small envelope. He set it in front of me. “I kept a record,” he said. “The date and time he called. What he said, word for word. I wrote it down that same night because I couldn’t sleep. I’ve kept it in that drawer ever since.”

Anything he might bring up to make this

look like a personal attack?”

I thought about it.

“He’ll say Ava is unstable.

That she’s been resentful.

That she fabricated this to punish him for something.”

“And you?”

“He’ll say I’m grieving and not thinking clearly.

That I’ve been manipulated by a troubled girl.” I met Patricia’s eyes.

“He’s going to fight this.”

“He will,” she agreed.

“Which is why we move before he knows we’re moving.” She closed her notepad.

“I’m going to make a call this afternoon.

I want you both to go home, act normally, and do not confront him.

Do not give him any indication that anything has changed.”

“He’s already suspicious,” Ava said.

“He cornered me last night.”

Patricia looked up sharply.

“What did he say?”

“He said I could talk to him about anything.

He was checking whether I’d told her.” Ava nodded toward me.

1 thought on “His jaw tightened. “Ellen—” “He let a sixteen-year-old girl take the blame for something he did. He watched me grieve for five years. He stood at our daughter’s grave.” My voice stayed level. I needed it to stay level. “He is still in my house.” Marcus looked at the table for a long moment. “If I do this,” he said slowly, “it ends everything. My family—” “Your family ended the night he made that phone call,” I said. “You’ve just been pretending otherwise.” The kitchen was very quiet. Then Marcus stood up and walked to the counter. He opened a drawer and removed a small envelope. He set it in front of me. “I kept a record,” he said. “The date and time he called. What he said, word for word. I wrote it down that same night because I couldn’t sleep. I’ve kept it in that drawer ever since.””