Chapter 4: More Than the Money
I didn't move.
"What does that mean?" I said.
Eric glanced at Kayla.
Something passed between them — fast, almost invisible.
She looked at the floor.
"Not here," he said.
"You just said there are things I don't know.
Say them."
"I said not here."
Barbara stepped forward.
"Then I'll say them."
Eric's head snapped toward her.
"Mom—"
"I found more than bank statements." She reached into the folder again and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
She held it out to me.
It was a legal document.
I recognized the header — a family law firm downtown, the same one Eric had mentioned once when we were still together, the one his college friend worked at.
I read the first paragraph.
Then I read it again.
It was a paternity waiver.
Signed by Eric.
Dated two weeks before Chloe was born.
"He tried to legally remove himself as her father before she was even here," Barbara said.
The neighbor across the street had walked to the edge of her lawn.
My hands were steady.
I don't know why.
Everything inside me had gone very quiet.
"It didn't go through," Barbara continued.
"The attorney wouldn't file it.
Apparently even he had a limit."
"You went to my lawyer?" Eric's voice had an edge now.
"Thomas has known me since he was twelve years old," Barbara said.
"He called me.
He thought I knew."
"You had no right—"
"You tried to sign away your daughter before she took her first breath." Barbara's voice didn't rise.
It dropped.
"Don't talk to me about rights."
Kayla moved out of the doorway and sat down on the porch step.
She was looking at Eric differently now — a careful, measuring look, the kind that means someone is doing math they don't like the answer to.
"Did you know about this?" I asked her.
She didn't answer right away.
"Kayla." My voice was even.
"Did you know he tried to file that?"
"He told me it was just a formality," she said finally.
"That you two had agreed."
"We never spoke about it."
She looked at Eric.
He said nothing.
"He told me you didn't want him involved," Kayla said.
Her voice had changed.
The performance was gone.
"He said you told him to stay out of it."
"I called him from the hospital parking lot," I said.
"I was in labor.
I called him and he didn't answer."
Kayla stood up slowly.
"Eric," she said.
"It's complicated," he said.
"Is it?" She crossed her arms.
"Because it sounds pretty simple to me."
"Kayla, don't—"
"You told me she was unstable.
That she was trying to trap you.
That the baby might not even be yours."
The quiet street felt very loud all of a sudden.
"He said that?" Barbara said.
Kayla looked at me.
"He said you'd been seeing someone else.
That he wasn't sure."
I felt something move through me — not anger, not yet.
Something colder.
"Chloe has his eyes," I said.
"She has his chin.
She has the same birthmark on her left shoulder that he has on his."
Kayla turned to Eric.
"Did you actually believe that?
Or did you just say it?"
He didn't answer.
"Which is worse?" she said quietly.
Eric's jaw worked.
He looked at the folder, at the document, at his mother, at me.
He was running out of directions to look.
"I'll pay for the treatments," he said.
"I'll set something up.
Direct deposit, whatever you need."
"That's not an apology," Barbara said.
"I'm not asking for an apology," I said.
"I'm asking for child support.
Through the court.
In writing.
With his name on it."
Eric's eyes narrowed.
"You want to go through the courts."
"I want Chloe protected.
Legally.
So that the next time you decide your life is more important than hers, there are consequences."
He looked at Barbara.
"Are you really going to let her do this to me?"
Barbara picked up her bag.
"I'm going to help her," she said.
Eric's phone buzzed again.
This time he looked at it for a long moment before he spoke.
"You don't know everything," he said.
"Either of you.
There are things about this situation that you haven't been told."
"Then tell us," I said.
He looked up.
His expression had shifted into something I hadn't seen before — not anger, not calculation.
Something closer to fear.
"Not here," he said.
"And not today."
He went inside and closed the door.
Kayla was still standing on the porch.
She looked at the closed door, then at me.
"I didn't know," she said.
"About the document.
About what he told the lawyer."
I believed her.
I wasn't sure why, but I did.
"What did he mean," I said, "when he said there are things we haven't been told?"
She shook her head slowly.
May you like
"I don't know," she said.
"But I think I need to find out."
