What He Believed

"I didn't take his money."

The words came out before I reached the chair.

Vincent turned the photograph facedown.

"Then tell me what happened."

"He was waiting outside my apartment. He wanted me to say Lily misunderstood. When I refused, he offered me that envelope. I never touched it."

"I believe you."

I stared at him.

He pushed the deposit slip aside.

"The accountant checked the bank details while I waited for you. That account isn't yours. The slip is an altered scan. I want your account of the meeting because he approached you, not because you owe me a defense."

My knees weakened so abruptly that I sat.

"You might have said that first."

He closed his eyes briefly.

"Yes. I should have."

I pressed my palms together to stop them shaking.

"There was a camera across the street. The café might have one too."

"Marco is asking them to preserve the footage. With your permission, we'll give your statement to the lawyer handling Arthur's conduct."

I nodded.

"And your building?" he asked. "Does he know which apartment?"

"He knew where to wait. I don't know what else he knows."

Vincent reached for his phone.

I caught his wrist.

"Please don't call him while you're looking like that."

He looked down at my hand, then back at me.

"What do I look like?"

"Like you're about to make something worse for yourself."

For a moment, something fierce moved behind his restraint.

Then he set the phone down.

"He frightened you."

"Yes."

It was difficult to admit. More difficult than telling him about the money.

"I kept thinking about Lily's school," I said. "About how easy it would be for a man like him to find out when I collect her."

Vincent pulled a chair closer, but he did not touch me.

"Arthur is barred from this property. Sophia's belongings are being collected by staff. Neither of them will have access to your employment information. We can arrange transport for you and Lily, and security where you need it."

"For how long?"

"Until the risk is properly assessed. We'll review it with you."

I looked at the photograph facedown on his desk.

"What if the account had been mine? What if he had put money in it without asking?"

Vincent leaned forward.

"Then I would still have asked you what happened."

I wanted to believe that so badly it hurt.

"You don't know me very well."

"I know you returned a pair of earrings Sophia left in a bathroom. I know you stayed three hours late when Mrs. Russo was sick and changed your time sheet because you said you were helping a friend. I know you looked frightened in that meeting and stood between Arthur and your daughter anyway."

He had noticed things I had believed invisible.

"Mrs. Russo should stop talking about me," I whispered.

"She is unlikely to take that instruction."

A laugh broke out of me, watery and embarrassing.

He offered a clean handkerchief. I accepted it and immediately resented how much I needed it.

"I called because I wanted you to hear it from me."

"I know."

"I should have put it in the message."

"You were frightened. He chose to threaten you. Those are different responsibilities."

I wiped beneath my eyes.

He waited until I could breathe normally before speaking again.

"There is an apartment above the old carriage entrance. Staff use it for visiting relatives. You and Lily could stay there while this is resolved. It has its own door. You wouldn't be living in a guest room."

My first instinct was refusal. I had accepted help before and discovered later that the bill was larger than I could pay.

"Would it affect my job?"

"Your employment and salary would stay the same. Mrs. Russo can put the temporary housing arrangement in writing."

"And if I wanted to leave?"

His expression changed slightly.

"You would leave, Elena."

I looked at him for a long moment.

"Then I want to see it before I decide."

He nodded immediately.

We found Lily in the kitchen, placing strawberry slices on a piece of toast.

"Mrs. Russo says we're having a sleepover again."

"We might be staying a little longer," I told her.

Her gaze moved between us.

"Did I make a mess?"

I knelt beside the stool.

"No, sweetheart. Some adults made a mess. We are sorting it out."

"Is Mr. Bellini coming back?"

"No," Vincent said.

She looked up at him.

"Because he shouted?"

He rested one hand on the empty stool beside hers.

"Because I don't want him frightening people in my house."

Lily considered that, then tore a corner off her toast.

"Button was frightened too."

"I'll include him."

She offered Vincent the corner of toast. He accepted it as seriously as a document from his lawyer.

The apartment had two bedrooms and windows facing the garden. There were no chandeliers, no velvet chairs I would be terrified to stain. Someone had put a small blue quilt on the narrower bed.

Lily ran to the window.

"Mommy, we can see the birds."

I stayed in the doorway.

Vincent waited behind me.

"Mrs. Russo found the quilt," he said.

"I wasn't going to accuse you of interior decorating."

"I have been advised against buying furniture without supervision."

I thought of the cribs. So did he.

The humor faded between us, leaving something quieter.

"You don't have to pretend you're all right," I said.

His gaze held mine.

"Neither do you."

That night, after Lily fell asleep, I returned his handkerchief. He stood in the corridor with his jacket over one arm, looking tired enough that I wanted to smooth the crease between his brows.

Instead I said, "I washed it."

"You didn't need to."

"I know."

He took it. His fingers brushed mine, and neither of us moved immediately.

"Good night, Elena."

"Good night, Vincent."

Inside, Lily had kicked off her quilt. I covered her and stood beside the bed listening to her sleep.

For the first time that day, I could imagine tomorrow without Arthur standing in it.