Chapter 7: The Husband Who Finally Heard Himself
I looked at Carla.
She pointed at the phone, then at the desk between us.
She wanted me to keep him talking.
She pulled her notepad closer.
"I'm here," I said.
Callan was quiet for a moment.
I could hear the ambient sound of a hospital room — a faint beep, the low hum of equipment.
"My mother called me," he said.
"I know."
"She told me about the footage.
About Griffin." A pause.
"She told me Griffin is trying to destroy the family."
"Griffin told the truth about what he saw."
"Ana—"
"Don't." My voice came out steadier than I expected.
"Don't call me that right now."
He went quiet again.
"I'm not calling to argue," he said finally.
"I'm calling because—" He stopped.
Started again.
"The doctor asked me this morning what happened.
And I told him.
And then he asked me what happened before that.
And I had to sit there and explain that my wife was defending herself." Another long pause.
"He didn't say anything.
He just wrote something down and left the room.
And I lay there thinking about what I had just said out loud."
I didn't speak.
"I sl@pped you," he said.
"In front of everyone.
On the third day of our marriage."
"Yes."
"I've been sitting here trying to remember what I was thinking and I can't." His voice cracked slightly.
"I just remember my mother's face.
And Brooklyn crying.
And everyone looking at me like I needed to do something.
And I—"
"You did what they expected," I said.
"You've been doing what they expected your whole life."
Silence.
"That's not an excuse," he said.
"No.
It's not."
"Ana.
Anastasia." He corrected himself.
"I need to know if there's any part of this that can—"
"Callan." I kept my voice even.
"Your mother called me this afternoon and offered me money to disappear quietly.
She threatened me.
She tried to delete the camera footage.
She's threatening Griffin with the estate over his testimony." I paused.
"Do you know about your father's will?
The condition?"
The silence that followed was different from the others.
"What condition?" he said.
He didn't know.
"You need to ask your mother about the will," I said.
"Ask her about the five-year condition.
Ask her what happens to your inheritance if we're not married in six weeks."
"What are you talking about?"
"Ask her, Callan."
A long pause.
"She wouldn't—" He stopped himself.
I heard him breathe.
"She wouldn't do all of this just for—"
"Ask her."
Another silence.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter and something in it had shifted in a way I couldn't name.
"I didn't know about the camera," he said.
"I want you to know that.
I didn't know it was recording."
"I believe you."
"But Brooklyn—" He stopped.
"Brooklyn knew exactly what she was doing," I said.
"She looked at you before she moved.
The footage shows it."
He didn't respond to that.
I didn't know if it was because he couldn't or because some part of him already knew and had never let himself look at it directly.
"What happens now?" he asked.
"I have an attorney," I said.
"She's sitting across from me.
The assault charge against me is being reviewed.
Donna Perez has given a witness statement.
Griffin has provided the cloud backup of the footage." I paused.
"What happens now depends on a lot of things.
Including what you decide to say."
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say what's true."
A long quiet.
"I'll talk to my mother," he said.
"Callan." I waited until I was sure he was listening.
"If she tells you to stay quiet, or to change your account, or to protect the family — I need you to think about what family actually means before you agree."
He didn't answer.
The line went quiet for so long I thought he had gone.
Then: "I'm sorry, Anastasia."
The call ended.
Carla set her pen down.
"He didn't know about the will condition," I said.
"No," she agreed.
"He didn't." She looked at her notes.
"Which means when he talks to his mother tonight, she's going to have to decide how much of the truth to give him." She paused.
"And he's going to have to decide what to do with it."
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text from a number I recognized.
Brooklyn.
*"You think you've won something.
You haven't.
Call off your lawyer or I'll make sure everyone knows what kind of person you really are.
I have things I can say about you that will make that footage irrelevant."*
I turned the phone so Carla could read it.
She looked at it for a moment.
Then she picked up her own phone.
May you like
"I'm going to need you to forward that to me immediately," she said.
"That message just became evidence."
