Chapter 12 - WHAT CYNTHIA KNEW—AND WHAT SHE DIDN’T
I met Cynthia once.
Only once.
Her attorney arranged it because she wanted to return several boxes of Liam’s belongings she had found after leaving the mansion.
We chose a neutral office.
Austin was not there.
Cynthia looked younger without the pink dress and the giant house behind her.
“I know you hate me.”
“I don’t know you well enough.”
That seemed to hurt more.
“Jeffrey told me your marriage was over before we started.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know now.”
“When did you find out?”
She stared at her hands.
“When you came home last Thanksgiving.”
That was five months earlier.
I had flown in for three days.
Cynthia was supposedly in Miami at a conference.
Jeffrey had moved every trace of her out before I arrived.
“You knew after that.”
“Yes.”
“And stayed.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
“What did you know about Liam?”
“That he was having behavior problems.”
“Did you see him being isolated?”
“Yes.”
“Did you object?”
Cynthia began crying.
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
“I was exhausted. Austin cried constantly. Liam screamed whenever Jeffrey held the baby.”
“He was three.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“I kept telling myself Noelle knew what she was doing.”
Everybody had outsourced responsibility to the oldest confident person in the room.
“Did you know about Liam’s trust?”
“No.”
“Did Jeffrey tell you the house was financially struggling?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you my salary was carrying most of it?”
“No.”
Her face changed.
“He told me the house was paid for by family money.”
In a way, it had been.
Just not the family money Cynthia imagined.
She opened one of the boxes.
Inside were birthday gifts.
My birthday gifts to Liam.
Six packages.
Some unopened.
I stopped breathing.
“Where did you find these?”
“Storage closet.”
“Why were they there?”
Cynthia started crying again.
“Noelle said too many gifts made him difficult.”
I picked up a wooden train set I had mailed from London.
The shipping label still carried my handwriting.
Liam had told me during video calls that he loved it.
Jeffrey must have shown him photographs.
Or lied.
“Did Jeffrey know?”
“I don’t know.”
She hesitated.
“I saw him put one package in there.”
That was enough.
I stood.
Cynthia looked frightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
I believed she regretted it.
I did not absolve her.
She had participated in an affair.
She had stayed after learning I did not know.
She had watched a little boy being pushed to the edge of his own home and decided the adults around her probably understood better.
But she had not designed the financial scheme.
She had not known Liam’s money supported her.
Those distinctions mattered.
Before leaving, she said:
“Jeffrey and I are done.”
“That’s your business.”
“I thought you’d want to know.”
“No.”
I picked up the box of Liam’s gifts.
“This is what I wanted to know.”
That night, Liam opened the wooden train set.
He looked at me.
“You really sent it?”
“Yes.”
“Daddy said it got lost.”
I sat on the floor beside him.
“Daddy was wrong.”
I could have said liar.
May you like
I didn’t.
Liam had enough adult words to carry already.
