Chapter 2
Ethan’s mother, Anna, had been gone for eleven months.
According to Mark, she left after their marriage collapsed.
According to Claudia, Anna was unstable, selfish, and tired of motherhood.
I had hated the story from the beginning.
Anna adored Ethan.
But grief and pride make men accept explanations they would normally question.
I had accepted Mark’s.
Now I looked at my grandson sitting beside the fire and wondered what else I had accepted because it was easier than accusing my own son of lying.
“What key did Mommy have?”
Ethan held up both hands as if describing something small.
“Gold one.”
“Where did she keep it?”
“Neck.”
A pendant key.
I remembered it.
Anna wore a narrow brass key on a chain. She once joked that it opened the only place in the Whitaker house nobody else could touch.
I assumed she meant a jewelry box.
Mark entered the room.
I stood.
“Where is Anna’s key?”
His face tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan immediately shook his head.
“Claudia has it.”
Mark closed his eyes.
There.
I did not need more proof that he knew something.
Claudia appeared in the doorway.
“You are letting a three-year-old conduct an interrogation.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
Then at Mark.
“I’m letting him speak without you teaching him which answer keeps him indoors.”
That silenced both of them.
I crouched beside Ethan again.
“Did Claudia punish you because of Mommy’s key?”
He nodded.
“What did she want?”
His lip trembled.
“The box.”
My stomach tightened.
“What box?”
Ethan whispered:
“Mommy’s red box.”
I had never heard of it.
May you like
Mark had.
His face told me before his mouth did.
