Chapter 4: Everything Carol Said I Already Knew
Carol sat across from me at the kitchen table with both hands wrapped around her mug and let me talk until I ran out of words.
I told her about the bank statement.
The storage unit.
The crib.
The photographs.
The phone call.
I told her what Marcus had said, word for word, because I had heard every syllable so clearly that I knew I would never forget any of it.
When I finished, Carol set her mug down.
"How long have you suspected something was wrong?" she said.
"I don't know.
Maybe always.
Maybe never." I turned my own mug in my hands.
"That's the part I keep getting stuck on.
I didn't suspect anything specific.
I just — I found an $87 charge and I couldn't let it go."
"Because some part of you already knew."
"I don't want that to be true."
"I know," Carol said.
"But it probably is."
My phone buzzed on the table.
Marcus again.
I turned it face down.
"He wants to come home and explain," I said.
"Of course he does."
"He said it was before he understood what he was doing."
Carol's expression didn't change, but something behind her eyes did.
"The child is eight years old."
"I know."
"And you've been married fifteen years."
"I know, Carol."
She picked up her mug again.
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know yet.
I need to understand the full picture before I decide anything." I looked at the closed laptop.
"I need to know who Renee is.
I need to know how long this has been going on.
Whether it's still going on."
"Do you think it might still be going on?"
I thought about the storage unit.
The neatly stacked boxes.
The crib still assembled after eight years.
The yellow blanket folded with care.
"He's been paying $87 a month for fourteen years," I said.
"He didn't cancel it.
He didn't move the things out.
He kept it.
All of it." I looked at Carol.
"That's not someone who made a mistake and moved on.
That's someone who kept a door open."
Carol nodded slowly.
"I need a lawyer," I said.
"Before I talk to him again.
Before I let him come home and sit at this table and explain things to me in a way that makes me feel like I'm the one who needs to be reasonable."
"I know someone," Carol said immediately.
"Her name is Grace Whitfield.
She's good.
She's also not the kind of person who lets anyone talk around her."
"Can you call her tomorrow?"
"I'll call her tonight."
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't Marcus.
It was a number I didn't recognize.
I stared at it.
Carol watched me.
I answered.
"Is this Olivia?" said a woman's voice.
Quiet.
Careful.
"Yes.
Who is this?"
A pause.
"My name is Renee," she said.
"I think we need to talk."
The kitchen went very still.
Carol's hand stopped moving on her mug.
"How did you get this number?" I said.
"Marcus called me after he spoke to you.
He was — he was upset.
He said things." Her voice was steady but thin, like something being held together with effort.
"He told me you found the unit.
He told me what you said to him."
"And you decided to call me."
"I decided to call you because there are things Marcus hasn't told you.
Things he hasn't told either of us." She paused.
"I think you deserve to know them.
And honestly — so do I."
I looked at Carol.
Carol looked back at me.
"Where are you?" I said.
"I'm twenty minutes from you.
Marcus told me where you live.
Years ago, when I was trying to understand what was real." Her voice caught slightly.
"I never came.
But I know where it is."
"Come now," I said.
Carol's eyebrows went up.
May you like
"Come now," I said again.
"I'll put the kettle on."
