. CHAPTER 2 — Two Women in White
“Ryan,” Diana said, calm as ice, “you need to listen before you react.”
That was exactly what made him react.
His mother only used that tone when she had already decided someone else’s guilt. She had used it when Ryan was twelve and blamed the housekeeper for a missing watch that later turned up in Diana’s own jewelry drawer. She had used it at his wedding when she told Claire, smiling, that “working-class girls can learn table manners if they truly try.” She used it now while milk burned on the stove and Ryan’s daughter shook in her mother’s arms.
Ryan stepped into the kitchen.
Marissa’s phone followed him.
“Put that down,” he said.
Marissa blinked, performing confusion. “I’m documenting this for everyone’s safety.”
“Put it down.”
“Actually,” Diana said, “we asked her to record because Claire became hysterical. She left Lily crying, ruined the milk, and then attacked me when I tried to help.”
Claire’s head snapped up. “That’s not true.”
Her voice was hoarse, like she had been begging for too long.
Marissa tilted the phone toward Ryan. “We have footage of her screaming.”
Ryan did not look at the phone. He looked at Claire’s hands. One was wrapped around Lily’s back, fingers spread protectively. The other was shaking so badly that Lily’s pajama sleeve trembled with it. There was milk on Claire’s cuff, but no burn on her skin. Her hair had fallen loose from its clip. A red mark crossed her wrist.
“Claire,” Ryan said, softer. “Tell me.”
Diana gave a short laugh. “Of course you ask her. She cries, and you melt.”
Lily lifted her face then. Her eyes were red, her small mouth quivering. “Daddy,” she whispered.
Ryan’s chest cracked.
He moved toward her, but Lily clung harder to Claire. That frightened him too. Lily always ran to him. She launched herself at him from stairs, sofas, grocery carts. But tonight she hid from every moving body in the room, even his, as if the house itself had become unsafe.
Marissa lowered the phone just enough for Ryan to see her smile.
“She’s scared because Claire scared her,” she said. “Your mother was right. This environment is unstable.”
Ryan turned slowly.
“Environment?”
Diana’s mouth tightened. “Your foundation board has been concerned. Your domestic life reflects on the company. If Claire is overwhelmed as a mother, there are arrangements—”
“Arrangements,” Ryan repeated.
Marissa slid a folder across the island. It had been waiting there. Printed. Prepared.
Ryan looked down.
Temporary custody transfer. Emergency household management authority. Psychological evaluation recommendation.
The burning milk had been a stage prop.
May you like
The sobbing child had been evidence.
And Claire was supposed to be the villain before he walked through the door.
