Chapter 3
I had seen that blue stitching before.
Not on the rabbit.
Somewhere else.
Before I could place it, Michael stepped into the room.
“She’s awake.”
Lily was off the sofa before anyone could stop her.
“Mommy!”
Michael caught her gently.
“Slowly. Your mom needs quiet.”
“I can be quiet.”
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“She asked for you.”
That surprised me.
It seemed to surprise Mrs. Alvarez too.
I followed Michael into the bedroom.
Claire was propped against two pillows, pale but conscious.
Her normally neat brown hair fell loosely around her shoulders. An IV line ran into her arm.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Not physically.
Some people looked diminished when the thing they had been hiding finally became heavier than their ability to carry it.
“You frightened your daughter,” I said.
Her eyes closed.
“I know.”
“She came to my room.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
She opened her eyes again.
“She found you?”
“At midnight. Barefoot.”
A weak smile appeared.
“She doesn’t like slippers.”
“She also thinks I’m too tall.”
That smile became real for half a second.
Then it disappeared.
“Where is she?”
“Michael’s bringing her in.”
As though summoned by her name, Lily slipped through the doorway.
She climbed carefully onto the bed beside her mother.
“Mommy.”
Claire pulled her close.
“I’m right here.”
“You didn’t wake up.”
“I know.”
“I said Mommy lots.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“You scared Bunny.”
“I scared Bunny?”
“And me.”
Claire pressed her lips to Lily’s hair.
“I’m very sorry.”
I looked away.
There were things in my life I had learned not to watch.
Grief.
Goodbyes.
People asking for forgiveness when they weren’t sure they deserved it.
This was different, but it touched the same locked room inside me.
Michael waited until Lily settled beside her mother.
“She needs rest,” he said.
Claire nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“But first I need to speak with Mr. Moretti.”
Michael checked her pulse once more.
“Five minutes.”
“Ten,” Claire said.
“Seven.”
She almost smiled.
When Michael left, I pulled the chair beside the bed.
Lily was already becoming sleepy, one hand tangled in Claire’s sleeve.
I didn’t waste time.
“Victor Kane was here.”
Claire’s face lost what little color it had regained.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
That mattered.
“You knew?”
“Lily saw him.”
Claire looked immediately at her daughter.
“She shouldn’t have.”
“But she did.”
Her voice dropped.
“He wasn’t supposed to come here.”
“People often aren’t supposed to do things. They do them anyway.”
She looked toward the door.
“Did security see him?”
“They’re checking.”
Her silence gave me another answer.
“You expected they wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Adrian.”
She blinked.
It was the first time I had asked her to use my first name.
Maybe I was tired of being the man everyone addressed from a safe distance.
Maybe Lily had changed the atmosphere of the entire house simply by knocking on my door barefoot.
Or maybe I knew that whatever Claire was about to tell me required two people speaking as human beings, not an employer questioning an employee.
“Adrian,” she said reluctantly.
“Why was Victor here?”
Claire looked down at Lily.
The child’s eyes had closed.
Her rabbit rested between them.
“I made a mistake.”
“What kind?”
“I thought I could handle this quietly.”
May you like
“That sentence usually means the opposite.”
“I know.”
