“No. He said he was independent.”
Ethan shook his head slowly.
“He handled the divorce papers.”
My mind struggled to keep up.
Vivian had gone to Marianne.
Marianne had sought legal advice.
The lawyer she found was the same lawyer Vivian had used for our divorce.
“How did you find him?” Ethan asked.
Marianne’s face had gone gray.
“He was recommended.”
“By whom?”
She swallowed.
“A woman at my church. Eleanor Price.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Daniel’s mother.”
A terrible quiet settled over us.
Maya stirred in the bassinet, making a soft mewling sound.
I reached for her immediately, and Marianne stood to help, but Ethan was closer. He lifted Maya gently and placed her in my arms.
For the first time, Marianne did not protest.
I held my daughter against me and felt the pieces shift into a pattern I did not yet understand.
Vivian had known.
Vivian had reached Marianne.
Vivian’s lawyer had somehow appeared as Marianne’s advisor.
Someone had accessed my hospital file.
Someone had tried to manage information around my daughter before she was even born.
And Ethan, for once, looked as horrified as I felt.
“What did Daniel tell you?” he asked Marianne.
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
“He said Chloe should avoid naming you on anything until she was ready. He said it would keep things simpler. He said…” Her voice trembled. “He said if Ethan didn’t know, maybe it was better to wait.”
Ethan looked at me.
I looked back.
The old story cracked further.
Not vanished.
Not forgiven.
But cracked.
Because maybe my silence had been mine, but maybe hands had been placed on the scale.
Maybe both of us had been pushed farther apart by people who smiled while calling it help.
Linda knocked lightly and entered before anyone could speak.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Dr. Alvarez wants Maya back for her next check.”
I held Maya tighter for one instinctive second, then forced myself to relax.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Ethan helped transfer her into the bassinet.
