Chapter 3: Everything She Practiced on the Way Up the Stairs
Serena recovered faster than I expected.
That was the thing about her.
She never stayed down long.
She looked at the photograph in my hand, and I watched her make a decision — the same small tightening around her eyes she got when she was switching strategies mid-conversation.
"That's not what it looks like," she said.
"Tell me what it looks like."
"We were both at a conference.
The same week.
It was coincidence."
My mother made a sound from the corner of the room.
Not a word.
Just a sound.
"The guardianship petition," I said.
"Was that coincidence too?"
Serena's chin came up.
"That was protective.
For Mei.
In case something happened to you on one of your trips.
Victor is family.
It made sense to have a plan."
"You filed it four months ago without telling me."
"I was going to discuss it with you when the time was right."
"And the time was never right in four months."
She took a step toward me.
Her voice dropped, softened.
"Marcus.
You're exhausted.
You've been traveling for two weeks.
You came home to something that looked bad, and I understand why you reacted the way you did.
But you need to slow down and think before you do something that hurts this family."
It was a good speech.
She had probably rehearsed it on the stairs.
"Get out of this room," I said.
"Marcus—"
"I'm not asking."
She looked at my mother.
Something passed between them — Serena calculating whether my mother was an ally or a wall.
She found her answer in my mother's expression and left without another word.
I stood there holding the folder.
My mother sat down on the edge of the bed.
She was sixty-three years old and she looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with the hour.
"How long have you known?" I asked.
"About the photograph, three weeks.
About the rest—" She paused.
"I had suspicions longer than that.
I didn't want to be the mother who causes trouble."
"You should have told me."
"I know." She didn't argue it.
"I kept thinking I was wrong.
I kept thinking you were happy."
I set the folder on the dresser.
"I need to make a call."
"Tonight?"
"Tonight."
My lawyer, Daniel Osei, picked up on the third ring.
He was a careful man who did not rattle easily.
I had worked with him for eleven years.
I told him what I had found.
The folder.
The letterhead.
The filing date.
The photograph.
He was quiet for a moment.
"Don't touch anything else in that room," he said.
"Don't move the folder.
Don't photograph it yourself — let me send someone in the morning.
And Marcus — say nothing more to Serena tonight.
Nothing."
"Understood."
"One more thing." His voice changed slightly.
"The law firm on that letterhead.
Hargrove and Associates?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"That's Victor's personal attorney.
Not your company's firm.
Someone used your company's letterhead without authorization."
I looked at the folder on the dresser.
"That's a separate problem," Daniel said quietly.
"A significant one."
Downstairs, I could hear Serena moving through the house.
The sound of a cabinet closing.
Heels on tile.
Then silence.
I went back to the hallway.
Mei was still sitting at the top of the stairs where I had left her, her small legs dangling over the edge, her hands folded in her lap.
"Is Auntie Serena in trouble?" she asked.
I sat down beside her.
"Why do you ask that?"
She thought about it with the seriousness she always brought to important questions.
"Because she looked like she did when the caterers broke the good plate.
Like she was trying not to show it."
I put my arm around her.
"Go to sleep.
I'll sort out your room."
"My bear is in storage," she said.
"The brown one with the ear."
"I'll find him tonight."
She leaned her head against my arm.
"Daddy.
Victor's son didn't even sleep in my room.
He slept in the guest room the whole time.
I heard him."
I went very still.
"Are you sure?"
"I heard his video game through the wall," she said simply.
"The guest room is next to mine."
I kissed the top of her head and carried her to the guest room — the only room in the house that hadn't been touched.
I tucked her in.
I found the brown bear in the third storage box in the hallway closet.
When I came back downstairs, Serena was waiting in the kitchen.
"We need to talk," she said.
"Properly.
Not like this."
"Tomorrow," I said.
"Marcus, please—"
"Tomorrow, Serena."
I walked past her and locked myself in the study.
I sat at my desk for a long time without turning on the light.
Victor's son had never slept in Mei's room.
The whole reason Mei's things had been packed, her chair moved, her space erased — it had never been about the boy needing somewhere to sleep.
It had been about something else entirely.
I just didn't know what yet.
May you like
I picked up my phone and called Daniel back.
"There's something else," I said.
