“What happened after you called him?” I asked when I could breathe again.
Richard’s expression changed slightly. Not anger exactly, but restraint.
“Your father said family obligations had to be respected.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me. It sounded sharp and broken.
“Family obligations.”
“Yes,” Richard said. “That was his phrase.”
Aunt Evelyn shifted Noah carefully, his tiny mouth opening in a sleepy yawn.
“Your mother tried to take the phone from him after she realized everyone could hear,” she said. “But by then, the room had gone quiet.”
I pictured my parents’ dining room glowing with candlelight, Whitney sitting beneath the crystal chandelier, my mother’s best silver laid out beside folded linen napkins. I imagined all those polished faces turning toward my father as his voice filled the space.
You made your own bed, Claire.
For years, I had feared embarrassment more than loneliness. I had learned to keep the family’s secrets smooth and presentable. If my mother forgot my birthday, I said she was busy. If my father missed my graduation lunch, I said work ran late. If Whitney borrowed money and never paid it back, I called it a misunderstanding.
That night, I had finally been too injured to cover for anyone.
“What did Whitney say?” I asked.
Aunt Evelyn looked at Richard.
He sighed. “Nothing at first.”
Of course she hadn’t. Whitney had always understood silence as a kind of protection. As long as nobody challenged the version of life that benefited her, she could pretend she wasn’t involved.
“Then?” I asked.
“Then her fiancé asked whether Noah was safe.”
That surprised me.
“Daniel?”
Richard nodded. “He wanted the hospital name. Your father refused to give it.”
Aunt Evelyn’s eyes flashed.
“So Richard gave it to him.”
I stared at them. “Daniel knows I’m here?”
“He does,” Richard said. “Whether he comes is
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