He paused.
“And Evy?”
“Yes.”
“Get her to the county hospital intake desk under your name. Not theirs. Do not let anyone from that family meet you first.”
Maya’s cracked phone buzzed on the kitchen table.
She flinched so violently the bench scraped the floor.
The screen lit up with Marcus’s name.
Once.
Twice.
Then a voicemail notification appeared.
Arthur must have heard the sound through my phone because he said, “Do not delete anything.”
Maya shook her head.
“No,” she whispered. “Please.”
But I knew that tone in her voice.
It was not only fear.
It was hope dying one more time.
I pressed play on speaker.
Marcus’s voice filled my kitchen, smooth and controlled.
“Maya, if your mother gets involved, this becomes ugly. Tell her you slipped. Celeste is willing to forgive you if you stop making accusations.”
The silence afterward was not empty.
It had weight.
