Chapter 5: The Number I Didn't Recognize
"Who is that?" I asked.
Liam was already typing back.
"I don't know the number.
But I have a feeling."
"Liam."
He looked up.
"A few weeks ago, before I found out about the message, I ran into one of Mom's friends at the grocery store.
Carol Marsh.
She seemed — uncomfortable.
She said something like, 'I hope everything's all right with you and your wife.' I didn't know what she meant.
I let it go."
He showed me the screen.
He'd typed: *Who is this?*
The reply came in under a minute.
*Carol Marsh.
I was at your mother's book club last month.
I heard some things I think you should know.
I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner.*
Diane was reading over Liam's shoulder.
She made a sound that wasn't quite a word.
"Book club," she said.
"Mom hosts it here every third Thursday."
Liam typed: *Can we call you?*
*Yes.
But not tonight.
Tomorrow morning.
Please don't tell Barbara I contacted you.*
Liam set the phone face-down on the table.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
Neither of us said anything for a moment.
"She's been talking about you," Diane said.
"Outside the family.
To her friends."
"We don't know that yet," Liam said.
"Liam." Diane's voice was flat.
"Carol Marsh has known our mother for fifteen years.
She wouldn't text you at nine o'clock on a Saturday night unless she'd heard something that genuinely alarmed her."
The dinner had effectively ended.
People were beginning to say their goodbyes — careful, subdued farewells, the kind that happen when a family gathering has gone somewhere no one planned.
The cousins hugged me a little longer than usual.
Petra pressed my hand and said, quietly, "You were right to say something.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Gerald walked us to the door.
He looked older than he had two hours ago.
"I'll speak to her," he said to Liam.
"I mean it this time."
"Dad." Liam paused with his coat half on.
"What does 'this time' mean?"
Gerald looked at the floor.
"There have been other times I should have spoken up.
I didn't.
I told myself it was easier to let things settle on their own." He looked at me.
"I owe you an apology for that too.
Not just for tonight."
I nodded.
I didn't trust myself to say more than that.
In the car, our baby was asleep in the car seat.
Liam had buckled her in while I said goodbye, and she'd gone out immediately, one small fist curled beside her cheek.
I looked at her for a long moment before I got in.
She had no idea.
She'd been in a bedroom upstairs with Liam's cousin watching her, warm and fed and completely untouched by all of it.
I was glad.
I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Liam started the car.
We drove the first few minutes in silence.
"I need to know what Carol heard," I said finally.
"We'll call her tomorrow."
"What if it's worse than the message?"
He didn't answer right away.
The streetlights moved across the windshield one by one.
"Then we deal with it," he said.
"Together.
Like we should have been doing from the start." He glanced at me briefly.
"I'm sorry I sat on that message for six days.
I kept telling myself I was waiting for the right moment.
But I think I was just hoping it would somehow become less bad."
"Did it?"
"No," he said.
"It got worse."
I looked out the window at the dark streets passing by.
"Liam.
How long has she been like this?
Really?"
He was quiet for long enough that I turned to look at him.
May you like
"Since before we got married," he said.
"I just got very good at not seeing it."
