For the first time, he didn’t know what to say. David opened his mouth as if to say something cruel, something final, but he couldn’t find the sentence.
For the first time, his authority didn’t fill the room. The silence between us was louder than any scream. Outside, the rain beat against the apartment windows like small stones. I kept folding my daughter’s tiny clothes, one by one, with a calm I didn’t actually feel in my body.
—”Who is putting ideas in your head?” he asked. —”No one.” —”Was it Paige?”
I didn’t answer. Right then, I knew he was scared. He didn’t ask what I knew. He asked who was helping me. Liars don’t fear the truth; they fear people who know how to use it.
David took two steps toward me. —”Look, Maya, I’m not going to argue with a hormonal woman.”
I stood up slowly, holding my lower back. —”Then don’t argue.”
His jaw clenched. —”It’s not in your best interest to turn against me.”
That sentence I kept. Not as a screenshot. In a voice memo that had been recording since he walked through the door.
The next morning, Alice showed up unannounced with a bag of pastries from the local bakery and that plaster-saint smile she used to bless backstabbings.
—”Oh, honey, you look exhausted,” she said, walking in as if the apartment still belonged to her son. “The pregnancy has you so sensitive.”
She had a blue shawl folded over her arm. She draped it over my shoulders without asking, then looked around, like someone checking to see if something valuable is still in its place.
—”David told me you’ve been very nervous.” —”I’m tired, not nervous.” —”Exactly my point. A pregnant woman shouldn’t be burdened with worries. Look, I brought you some paperwork. Nothing complicated.”
She pulled a beige folder from her purse. I felt my daughter move. There it was. The trap walking into my living room smelling of freshly baked sweet bread.
—”Paperwork for what?” —”The usual, honey. Modifying the marital agreement. The house. You know with business you never know what can happen. It’s better to put everything where David can manage it properly.” —”Everything?” —”Well, the apartment, mostly. You can’t be thinking about banks, lawyers, and all that with the baby on the way.”
I smiled. —”And why the rush?”
Alice barely blinked. Almost imperceptibly. But I was already learning how to read the tiny tremors. —”Because after the delivery you’re going to be exhausted. Better to have it all ready.” —”I’m not going to sign.”
Her smile washed off like cheap makeup in the rain. —”Maya, don’t be stubborn.” —”I’m not signing anything.”
Her voice dropped. —”My son has paid for this apartment.”
I had the urge to laugh in her face. —”Your son hasn’t even been able to pay for the crib.”
The blow landed. I saw it in her eyes. For a second, she dropped the act. —”You don’t know everything David has done for you.” —”I know more than you think.”
She stepped closer to me, holding the folder against her chest. —”Single women don’t last long with a baby. I’m telling you from experience. Sometimes it pays to be humble.”
I looked at the door. —”It pays for you to leave.” —”Are you kicking me out?” —”Yes.”
Alice went stiff, as offended as if I had desecrated a family altar. —”You are going to regret this.” —”Probably,” I said. “But not this part.”
When she left, my hands were shaking so much I had to sit down. I called Paige. I didn’t cry until I heard her voice. —”They made their move,” I told her. —”Perfect,” she answered. “That means they’re scared.”
