Chapter 2
“She said she needed a safe place to recover. You supplied the few nights.”
He looked toward the stairs as if Marina might appear at the top holding the baby, tired and tearful and ready to let him explain.
No one appeared.
“Where’s my daughter?”
“With her mother.”
His jaw tightened.
“I paid you to take care of them.”
Bernice drew a slim blue notebook from her tote and set it on the kitchen table.
“And I did.”
Adam put down the flowers.
He was still wearing loafers without socks, though cold rain had followed him from the airport garage.
His tan from Florida sat uneasily on his face in the gray Pittsburgh light.
There was a faint crease near his mouth from the flight, and the collar of his shirt was open in a way that might have looked relaxed if the kitchen had not been dismantling him one missing object at a time.
“What are you doing here, then?” he asked.
“Finishing the inventory. Returning the rental equipment. Marina arranged it last week.”
“Last week?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t say that.”
Bernice lifted one eyebrow.
“Did you answer?”
Adam reached for the notebook because anger was easier than the answer.
On the cover, in Marina’s careful handwriting, were two lines.
**Nell Bennett.**
**Born March 1. 11:14 a.m.**
He opened it.
Feedings.
Diapers.
Sleep.
Temperatures.
Medication times.
Notes from the lactation consultant.
Questions for the pediatrician.
The first pages were neat, every column filled.
Farther in, Marina’s handwriting tilted and wandered.
Some entries grew faint, as if written by a hand that had lost strength halfway through the word.
Then Bernice’s square letters began filling the blank spaces Marina had left behind.
Adam turned another page.
**March 9. Fever. Called obstetric team. Five calls to AB. No answer.**
He looked up.
“Sit down,” Bernice said. “You keep asking where they went. You might start with where you were.”
Adam did not sit.
“I was working.”
Bernice said nothing.
“I told Marina before I left.”
Bernice still said nothing.
“The Miami project changed the schedule.”
It was the lie he had used so often that the rhythm came automatically.
The project existed.
That was the useful part.
Bennett Commercial Interiors had spent six months bidding on a restaurant renovation contract in South Florida.
Adam had genuinely attended two meetings.
He had genuinely walked through a construction site.
He had genuinely taken calls from his operations manager.