This Time, He Listened

Vincent pulled a chair toward her and moved the phone within reach.

He did not ask whether she was sure again.

Elena sat, arranging her injured foot carefully beneath the desk.

"The declaration," Daniel said. "You remember it."

"I remember every page."

"Then explain to your husband that you agreed to the arrangement."

Her fingers whitened around the crutch.

Vincent wanted to answer for her. He folded his hands and waited.

"You brought it the day Lily had a fever," she said. "Margaret called because she couldn't keep anything down. You told me she'd see a doctor after I signed."

"That's an unfair description."

"She was eleven months old. I asked what would happen if I refused. You told me I could find out."

Daniel began speaking over her.

She raised her voice, and Vincent heard the effort it cost.

"I signed. I signed every word you put in front of me. Now you can tell Vincent how long it took before you called a doctor."

The room went quiet.

Vincent looked at the pale marks where her fingers pressed into the crutch handle.

"She told me about those visits," he said to Daniel. "She told me what you used them for."

"Then you know she cooperated."

Elena gave a short, incredulous laugh.

"You think using a different word changes it?"

A muffled noise came through the phone. Daniel moved away from it, then returned.

"Vincent, there are officers in my reception area."

The plainclothes officer beside the desk watched the screen without speaking.

"Yes," Vincent said.

"Did you send them?"

"I told them where to find you."

"They'll take everything. Not just my files. Yours."

Vincent had spent the afternoon with an independent attorney. She had asked questions he would once have refused to answer. She had explained that recovering his wife would not erase the rest of his life.

He had retained her anyway.

"Then you should stop talking to me and open the door," he said.

Daniel's voice dropped.

"After everything I've done for you."

Vincent looked at Elena.

"You don't get to put those years on my account."

He ended the call.

Elena stared at the darkened screen.

The officer asked whether she wanted to make a further statement now or later. She chose later. He thanked her and left them with Marco, who gathered the copies from the side table.

"They've secured the office," he said. "The files are still there."

Vincent nodded.

When the door closed, Elena let the crutch fall against her chair.

"I thought hearing him afraid would feel better."

Vincent crouched to pick it up.

"How does it feel?"

"I'm tired."

He set the crutch within reach.

"Then we're finished for tonight."

"There are still questions."

"They'll keep."

She studied him with an expression he could not read.

"You really did wait until I finished."

"I'm trying to get better at it."

Her mouth trembled.

"I used to imagine coming home and telling you everything in one conversation. You'd understand, and I'd stop feeling afraid."

"Did it work?"

She shook her head.

He sat on the floor beside her chair because it was easier than asking her to stand.

"We can have another conversation tomorrow."

Elena looked down at him.

"And if I say the same things?"

"I have a fairly good memory. I'll notice."

She laughed, unexpectedly and helplessly. Then she bent forward, and he opened his arms.

This time she came into them without stopping.

He held her while she cried into his shirt. His knees hurt against the floor. Her hair caught beneath his chin. He had never been so grateful to be uncomfortable.

Later, after the house had quieted, Lily appeared outside Elena's bedroom dragging a blanket behind her.

Vincent had been sitting in the hallway, sorting through messages he no longer wanted to answer tonight.

"What's wrong?"

"My bed is too far away."

Her room was across the landing.

He put the phone down.

"Let's ask your mother what she thinks."

Elena was awake. She moved her pillow and held out a hand.

Lily climbed in, then pointed at Vincent.

"You too."

He looked at Elena over their daughter's head.

"Only if there's room."

She shifted toward the middle.

Vincent lay on top of the covers, still in his trousers and shirt. Lily arranged the rabbit between their pillows, then laid one hand on each of them.

"I'm not sleeping," she announced.

"All right," Elena said.

"I have to make sure."

Vincent reached for the bedside lamp.

Lily caught his wrist.

He left the light on.

An hour later, when her hands had relaxed, Elena whispered, "She checks the doors sometimes."

"We'll leave them open."

Elena's fingers found his on the blanket.

He stayed awake long enough to feel them loosen into sleep.