Chapter 6 - The Price of Knowing Too Much
Sabine ended Greer’s visit immediately.
She did not shout.
That would have been easier.
She walked to the front door, opened it and said, “You need to leave.”
Greer kissed Fletcher’s hair.
“I’ll call you tonight.”
Sabine answered for him.
“No, you won’t.”
Greer stared at her.
Sabine’s face was controlled again.
“You came into this house looking for evidence instead of spending time with your brother.”
“I was sitting on the floor playing trains.”
“You were interrogating a three-year-old.”
“I asked one question.”
“And yesterday you hit me.”
That stopped Greer.
Sabine lowered her voice.
“You want to play responsible adult now? Fine. Responsible adults don’t slap people and then ask courts to trust their judgment.”
Greer left.
Ten minutes later, Sabine removed her from Fletcher’s preschool pickup list.
By bedtime, Greer’s number was blocked on the tablet Fletcher used for video calls.
Sabine had found the simplest punishment available.
Access.
Rick called Greer the next morning.
“You need to back off.”
“Did she call you?”
“Yes.”
“Of course she did.”
“She’s scared.”
Greer laughed bitterly.
“Good.”
“That isn’t helping.”
“She forced cake toward a screaming child’s mouth.”
“And you hit her.”
“So that makes everything equal?”
“No.”
Rick paused.
“But it makes everything harder.”
Greer sat on the hood of her car outside her apartment.
“Did Mom ask Sabine to keep Eli away forever?”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“Then why did you let this happen?”
Rick was silent long enough that Greer knew he was choosing words.
“You were falling apart after Holly died.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You stopped sleeping. You almost didn’t graduate. You wanted to drop out and raise Fletcher yourself.”
“I remember.”
“You were seventeen.”
“I remember that too.”
“Sabine was forty. She had a home. Money. Stability.”
“Did Eli come to the funeral?”
Rick sighed.
“Yes.”
Greer closed her eyes.
“Did you speak to him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“To see Fletcher.”
“And?”
“I told him it wasn’t a good time.”
“For three years?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what happened.”
Rick’s voice hardened.
“I thought Sabine would handle it.”
Greer looked at traffic moving along the street.
That sentence hurt more than she expected.
Because it described the entire family.
They had all handed responsibility to Sabine and then confused her control with competence.
“I need you to tell me everything you remember,” Greer said.
“I just did.”
“No, Dad. You told me the version that makes you least responsible.”
He went quiet.
When he spoke again, his tone had changed.
“If you keep pulling on this, you may not like where it ends.”
Greer heard something she had not expected.
May you like
Not warning.
Shame.
