Chapter 3: More Time for What
I set the phone down on the counter.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The way you set something down when you're afraid of what you'll do if you don't control your hands.
Daniel was already moving toward me.
"Rachel, let me explain—"
"Who sent that?"
He stopped.
"It's complicated."
"Who.
Sent.
That."
Anna made a small sound behind him.
Not a word.
Just a breath.
But Daniel turned toward her, and that single movement — his body turning to her before answering me — told me everything about where his instincts lived now.
"It was Marcus," he said finally.
Marcus.
His brother.
The one Anna had supposedly worked for before us.
"Why is your brother telling someone not to let me find out something?
Find out what, Daniel?"
He ran a hand through his hair.
Looked at the ceiling.
Every second he didn't speak, the room got smaller.
"There's something about Anna's situation that we didn't tell you.
When we hired her."
"Her situation."
"She needed the job, Rachel.
Urgently.
She was in a bad place financially and Marcus asked me to help.
I didn't tell you everything because I knew how it would look."
I looked at Anna.
She was still standing near the refrigerator, arms crossed, eyes on the floor.
"Is that what you'd call it?" I said.
"A situation?"
Anna finally looked up.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I told Daniel from the beginning that you should know.
He said it would only cause problems."
"What would cause problems?
What is it that I'm not supposed to know yet?"
Neither of them answered immediately.
Daniel looked at Anna.
Anna looked at me.
"I'm pregnant," Anna said.
The refrigerator hummed.
Outside, a car passed.
Lily's cartoon played faintly from the living room, some bright cheerful song about friendship and sharing.
"How far?" My voice didn't sound like mine.
"Fourteen weeks."
I did the math without meaning to.
Fourteen weeks back put us exactly at the month Daniel had pushed hardest to hire her.
The week he'd said, *Rachel, she's perfect, why are we still looking.*
"Is it yours?" I asked Daniel.
He didn't answer fast enough.
"Daniel.
Is it yours?"
"I don't know," he said.
I picked up my bag from the floor.
I didn't remember dropping it again, but there it was.
I put the strap over my shoulder.
I walked to the living room doorway.
Lily was on the floor with her stuffed rabbit, legs crossed, completely absorbed in her program.
She looked up when she heard me.
"Mommy, you're home early!"
"I am, baby."
"Is everything okay?"
I looked at her face.
Five years old.
Still believed that adults had answers.
"Go get your shoes," I said.
"We're going to Grandma's for a little while."
She jumped up without questioning it.
Kids that age still trust you completely.
They don't know yet that the adults asking them to move are sometimes the ones falling apart.
I didn't look at Daniel when I walked back through the kitchen.
I didn't look at Anna.
I took Lily's hand at the front door and I walked out.
Daniel called my name once from the doorway.
I kept walking.
It wasn't until I was three blocks away, Lily chattering beside me about what she wanted to show Grandma, that I realized I still didn't know who had sent that message.
Daniel said Marcus.
But the number was one I'd never seen.
May you like
And the wording — *she can't find out, not yet, we need more time* — didn't sound like a brother covering an awkward favor.
It sounded like a plan.
