Chapter 3 - DANIEL’S FIRST QUESTION“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel asked.
Evelyn had gone upstairs.
I had insisted she stay in her room until we decided what happened next.
Daniel and I stood in the kitchen.
Broken glass still on the floor.
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
His expression tightened.
“That’s not fair.”
I laughed.
Bad reaction.
“Isn’t it?”
“I’ve believed you.”
“You’ve believed there might be an explanation.”
“My mother has a cognitive diagnosis.”
“Mild cognitive impairment.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Daniel. I don’t. Because every time she destroys something of mine, suddenly we have to discuss neurology.”
He rubbed his face.
“What else is recorded?”
I opened the tablet.
Then hesitated.
“Claire.”
“Some of it is ugly.”
“My mother just smashed your mother’s memorial and accused you of assaulting her.”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
So I did.
The first clip was from nineteen days earlier.
Evelyn entered the kitchen.
Opened my purse.
Removed my wallet.
Walked to the laundry room.
Placed the wallet inside a basket of cleaning cloths.
Then returned to the living room.
Twenty minutes later, when I came downstairs searching, she said:
“You really need to slow down. You’re losing everything.”
Daniel stared.
Second clip.
Evelyn took two framed photographs from the console.
One of my parents.
One of Daniel and me on our wedding day.
She moved only mine.
Left the wedding photograph.
Then later told Daniel:
“Claire has been taking family photos down when she gets angry.”
Third clip.
Evelyn stood near the kitchen doorway while talking on the phone with her sister.
Her voice low.
“Daniel thinks Claire is under too much stress.”
Pause.
“No, he hasn’t said anything about divorce.”
Pause.
“I’m just saying people eventually see what’s in front of them.”
Daniel reached out.
“Stop.”
I stopped playback.
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He sat down.
For the first time since his mother moved in, he looked less angry than ashamed.
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