Chapter 8: Where Marcus Was
The call came at 9:47 that evening.
Claire was at Noah's kitchen table with Gerald, a laptop open between them, when her phone lit up with a number she didn't recognize.
She answered it on the second ring.
"Claire." The voice was hoarse, careful, and unmistakably Marcus.
She stood up so fast her chair scraped the floor.
Gerald looked up immediately.
"Marcus." She pressed the phone hard against her ear.
"Where are you?
Are you all right?"
"I'm all right.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry — is Lily—"
"Lily is safe.
She's asleep in the next room.
Noah's here." Claire moved to the kitchen doorway, lowering her voice.
"Marcus, what happened?"
A pause.
She could hear him breathing.
Something in the background — a television, maybe, or traffic.
"My mother told me three weeks ago that she had evidence I had been mismanaging Lily's trust fund," he said.
"She said if I didn't sign over co-trustee authority to her and Amanda, she would file for guardianship and make sure I never saw Lily again." His voice was steady but thin, like something stretched too far.
"I didn't believe she would actually do it.
I thought she was bluffting."
"She filed today," Claire said.
Silence.
"Marcus.
She filed this afternoon."
"I know." His voice dropped.
"Gerald texted me an hour ago.
That's why I'm calling." Another pause.
"I found the proof about the physician's letter.
I have it.
A handwriting analyst confirmed the signature is forged.
I have the written report."
Gerald was already at Claire's shoulder.
She tilted the phone slightly so he could hear.
"Marcus," Gerald said, "this is Gerald.
I need you to come in.
Tonight if possible.
We have a hearing motion filed for tomorrow morning and I need you present and I need that report."
"I know.
I know, I'm—" Marcus stopped.
"I was afraid if I came back before I had proof, she'd file before I could do anything.
I thought I had more time."
"You don't," Gerald said.
"But you have enough.
Come in."
"Where's Lily right now?"
"Asleep," Claire said.
"She had chocolate cake for dinner and she fell asleep on Noah's couch watching a film about penguins." She paused.
"She thinks you went away because of something she did."
The line was quiet for a long moment.
"I'm going to fix that," Marcus said.
His voice had changed.
The thinness was gone.
Something else had come in.
"Tell her—" He stopped.
"No.
Don't tell her anything.
I'll tell her myself." Another pause.
"I'll be there in two hours."
"Gerald will meet you at his office," Claire said.
"I'll stay with Lily."
"Claire." His voice was very quiet.
"Thank you."
She didn't answer that.
There wasn't anything to say that would fit inside the word.
She ended the call and looked at Gerald.
He was already putting on his coat.
"Two hours," he said.
"I'll have everything ready." He picked up the laptop.
"The forty-two clips are already on the secure server.
Noah did good work." He paused at the door.
"This is winnable, Claire.
It was always winnable.
We just needed him."
After he left, Claire stood at the kitchen window for a moment.
The street outside was quiet.
A light on in the house across the way.
Someone walking a dog slowly along the pavement.
She went to the living room doorway.
Lily was on the couch, curled under a blanket Noah had found somewhere, her jagged hair spread across the cushion.
The television was off.
Noah was in the armchair nearby, asleep himself, his head tipped back, one hand still loosely holding his phone.
Claire sat down on the floor with her back against the couch, close enough that she could hear Lily breathing.
May you like
She didn't sleep.
She just sat there in the quiet and waited for morning.
