Chapter 2 - WHAT MARCUS HEARD
Marcus called 911 before he called Emma back.
By the time paramedics arrived at the Carter house in Lakewood, Emma was sitting on the lowest stair with one palm under her belly and the other wrapped around her phone.
Khloe had disappeared into the upstairs bedroom.
Diane kept insisting Emma had “slipped during an argument.”
Robert said almost nothing.
The paramedic asked Emma directly.
“Did you fall, or were you pushed?”
Diane answered first.
“It was chaotic.”
Emma looked at the paramedic.
“My sister pushed me.”
Diane closed her eyes.
At the hospital, fetal monitoring showed a steady heartbeat, but Emma was kept for observation because of abdominal tightening and the impact to her hip.
Marcus arrived wearing the same navy work shirt he had left home in that morning.
He kissed her forehead, then rested his hand on her belly.
“You’re okay?”
“I think so.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Emma looked toward the curtain.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus pulled a chair close.
For three weeks, they had been preparing for the meeting at her parents’ house.
Not for violence.
For pressure.
Emma had spent seven years working as finance director for Carter Renovation Group, the residential remodeling company Robert had built from a two-man carpentry crew into a thirty-employee business.
Khloe handled sales and client relations.
Or had, before her divorce started consuming everything.
Six months earlier, Emma had found company payments that made no sense.
Divorce attorney retainers.
Luxury apartment deposits.
Personal credit-card balances.
All coded as business expenses.
All connected to Khloe.
When Emma questioned Robert, he told her the charges were temporary.
When she refused to approve them for the year-end records, Diane began calling.
Khloe needs us.
Family doesn’t abandon family.
Don’t make this uglier than it is.
The previous week, Marcus had finally said, “The next conversation gets documented.”
Emma resisted.
“They’re my parents.”
“That’s why you keep walking into rooms where everybody else already agreed what you’re supposed to say.”
So before entering the house that afternoon, Emma started an audio recording on her phone.
She told Marcus.
He told her to back it up automatically to their shared cloud account.
Not because they expected an assault.
Because Emma had begun doubting her own memory after months of four people describing the same conversations differently.
Now Marcus had the entire recording.
Including the fifteen minutes before the shove.
“Have you listened?” Emma asked.
“Some.”
His expression worried her.
“What?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Your dad said something before Khloe pushed you.”
“I know.”
“No. I don’t think you heard what he meant.”
Emma tried to remember.
Robert had been near the doorway.
Diane had been waving papers.
Khloe had been crying.
Everyone talking over everyone.
“What did he say?”
Marcus pulled out his phone.
“He said, ‘It’s already at the bank. We just need her to stop making this harder.’”
Emma frowned.
“The loan renewal.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“And?”
May you like
Marcus looked at her.
“Why would the bank already have anything if they were still trying to get your approval?”
