Chapter 7: The Name She Didn't Know
Rosa read the message four times.
Then she set the phone face-down on the sofa cushion and sat very still while Lily breathed slowly beside her.
Katherine.
She didn't know a Katherine.
In three months of late nights and cheap diners and conversations that stretched past midnight, Ethan had never mentioned a Katherine.
He had talked about his mother.
His business.
A college roommate who became his first investor.
A dog he had as a child named Porter.
Not Katherine.
She picked the phone back up.
The number was blocked.
She typed back: *Who is this?*
No reply came.
She did not sleep well.
In the morning, she called Daniel Reyes before she called Ethan.
"Someone sent me a message last night," she said.
"Anonymous.
They said the reason Ethan went quiet four years ago wasn't the merger.
They mentioned a name.
Katherine."
Daniel was quiet for a moment.
"Forward me the message.
Don't respond to it again."
"Do you know who Katherine is?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Forward me the message," he said again.
"I'll make some calls."
Rosa forwarded it and hung up.
She made Lily's breakfast.
She braided Lily's hair.
She walked Lily to the small park two blocks away and sat on a bench while Lily pushed Button on the baby swing with great ceremony.
Her phone rang at ten-forty.
Ethan.
She answered.
"Daniel called me," he said.
"I know."
"I should have told you about Katherine before now." His voice was careful.
Measured.
"I was going to.
I just — I didn't know how to begin."
"Begin now," Rosa said.
A breath.
"Katherine Marsh.
We were engaged.
Before you.
It ended badly." He paused.
"She died, Rosa.
Eight weeks after we broke off the engagement.
A car accident.
She was twenty-six."
Rosa closed her eyes.
"The merger was real," Ethan said.
"The business crisis was real.
But the reason I pulled away from everything — from everyone — was Katherine.
She died in October.
You and I were still — I was already pulling away by then because I didn't know how to be around anyone.
I didn't know how to explain it.
I just — went quiet."
"You were grieving," Rosa said.
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell me."
"No."
Rosa watched Lily push Button on the swing.
Push.
Wait.
Push.
"Who sent me that message?" she asked.
"I don't know yet.
But I have a suspicion." His voice tightened slightly.
"Victoria knew about Katherine.
I told her early in our relationship because I wanted to be honest about my history.
It's possible she gave that information to someone."
"To destabilize me."
"Yes."
Rosa stood up from the bench.
"Did you love her?
Katherine?"
"Yes," Ethan said.
"I did."
"Okay," Rosa said.
"Okay?"
"You were a person before I met you.
You're allowed to have loved someone." She exhaled.
"I just needed to know the truth.
All of it."
"There's nothing else," he said.
"That's all of it."
"Then we move forward."
She heard him breathe.
"Rosa," he said.
"I'd like to bring Lily to the estate this weekend.
Not for anything formal.
Just — to show her the piano.
Properly.
With her sitting on the bench and no one telling her to get down."
Rosa looked at her daughter, who had now placed Button inside the baby swing and was pushing the rabbit solo with both hands, narrating the experience in a serious undertone.
"I'll ask her," Rosa said.
She lowered the phone.
"Lily.
The man from yesterday wants to know if you want to come see the piano this weekend."
Lily stopped pushing.
She looked up.
"The big one that sings?"
"Yes."
Lily picked up Button and considered this with great gravity.
"Button wants to come," she said.
Rosa raised the phone.
"Button says yes."
She heard something on the other end of the line that might have been a laugh.
It was the first time she had heard Ethan Caldwell laugh in four years.
It sounded exactly the same.
That afternoon, Daniel called back.
"The anonymous message came from a device registered to a Phillip Haynes," he said.
"Victoria's father."
Rosa sat down.
"He's trying to scare me off."
"That would be my read, yes.
He's also filed a complaint with the domestic staffing agency claiming you violated confidentiality terms of your employment contract by disclosing personal information about a client."
"I didn't disclose anything.
Ethan asked me directly."
"I know.
It won't hold.
But it's the first move." Daniel's voice was steady.
"He's going to make this uncomfortable before he accepts that it's real.
That's what men like Phillip Haynes do."
"What do we do?"
"We file the paternity acknowledgment tomorrow.
Once that's on record, his complaint becomes irrelevant.
A father asking about his own child is not a confidentiality breach." A pause.
"He's hoping you'll get scared and go quiet.
Same thing that worked four years ago."
Rosa felt something harden in her chest.
Not anger exactly.
Something quieter and more durable than anger.
"It won't work this time," she said.
May you like
"No," Daniel said.
"It won't."
