Chapter 9: Victoria's Answer
Daniel called at eight forty-seven that evening.
I was washing up after dinner.
Ethan was in the living room.
I stepped into the hallway and closed the kitchen door behind me.
"I talked to her," Daniel said.
"And?"
A pause that told me the conversation had not gone smoothly.
"She took the post down," he said.
"Good."
"But she's not going to call the people individually.
She says that would make it a bigger deal than it already is."
"Daniel—"
"I know.
I told her that.
She said she'll post something tomorrow that clarifies things.
Something general.
She won't name Ethan."
I leaned against the wall.
"That's not what I asked for."
"I know."
"A general post doesn't undo what she said to eight specific people."
"I know, Mark." His voice was strained.
"I've been talking to her for three hours.
This is where she landed."
"Where she landed," I said, "is that she gets to decide how much of this she corrects."
"She's not going to call eight people and tell them she was wrong.
She won't do it."
"Then I'll send them the recording."
A sharp silence.
"Mark."
"Not publicly.
Directly.
To each person who heard her.
So they have the accurate version."
"That's—" He stopped.
"She'll say you're attacking her."
"She attacked my son's reputation.
I'm correcting the record."
"Can you just—" He exhaled.
"Can you give me one more day?
Let me work on her.
She's dug in right now, but she might come around."
I thought about it.
"One day," I said.
"Tomorrow evening.
If I haven't heard that she's made those calls, I send the recording."
"Okay."
"Daniel." I paused.
"I need you to understand something.
This isn't about winning an argument.
This is about Ethan walking back into his life in January without a lie attached to his name.
That's the only thing I care about."
A long pause.
"I understand," he said.
"Do you?"
"Yes." His voice was quieter now.
"Mark, for what it's worth — what she said about behavioral issues.
I told her tonight that was wrong.
That it was unfair and it was wrong and she needed to fix it." A pause.
"She didn't agree.
But I said it."
"That's a start," I said.
I hung up and stood in the hallway for a moment.
Then I opened the kitchen door and went back to the dishes.
"Who was that?" Ethan called from the living room.
"Uncle Daniel."
A pause.
"What did he want?"
I thought about how to answer that.
"He's working on something," I said.
"I'll tell you about it when it's done."
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
"Is it about what Victoria said?
About me having problems?"
I went still.
He watched me.
"Sophie told me," he said.
"She texted this afternoon.
She wanted me to know before I heard it from someone else."
I set down the dish towel.
"Yes," I said.
"It's about that."
He leaned against the doorframe.
His expression was hard to read — not upset, exactly.
More like someone who had just confirmed something they'd already suspected.
"Is it going to get to school?" he asked.
"I'm making sure it doesn't."
He nodded slowly.
"Okay," he said.
"I trust you."
Three words.
Quiet and simple.
I trust you.
I picked the dish towel back up.
"Go finish whatever you were watching," I said.
"I'll be done in ten minutes."
He went back to the living room.
I stood at the sink and looked out the window at the dark backyard.
Tomorrow evening.
If Victoria hadn't made those calls by then, I would send the recording.
And if she posted something that fell short — something vague and self-serving that left Ethan's name still clouded — I would make sure every person who needed to hear the truth heard it directly.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
A message from a number I didn't recognize.
*This is Carol.
Daniel's aunt.
I was at the dinner.
I heard what Victoria said about your boy.
May you like
I want you to know I don't believe a word of it.
And I'm not the only one.*
