Chapter 4 - Mike’s transfer
The transfer was $1,850.
Monthly.
Recipient:
Rebecca Monroe.
Naya had discovered it while Mike was applying jointly with her for a mortgage.
Their lender requested account statements.
“You’re buying a house?”
She looked ashamed.
“We were.”
Of course.
Mike had told me he was:
“keeping things simple until after the baby.”
Apparently simple included real estate.
“What did he tell you the payment was?”
“Support.”
“For what?”
“He said Rebecca had a daughter whose father disappeared and he’d promised years ago to help.”
I stared at her.
“And you believed that?”
“I asked if Molly was his.”
“What did he say?”
“No.”
Daniel spoke.
“He lied.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
Naya stood.
“You don’t know that.”
Daniel held up his phone.
“She called him Daddy.”
“She could—”
Naya stopped herself.
I knew that stage.
The brain producing explanations before the heart can absorb what evidence suggests.
“She could call him that without—”
“Without what?” I asked.
Naya’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know.”
I sat beside Daniel.
“What else did you see?”
“Videos.”
“You photographed them?”
“No.”
“What videos?”
“One at Christmas.”
My throat tightened.
“When?”
He thought.
“The date said December twenty-four.”
Last Christmas.
Mike had told me he was in Cleveland visiting a hotel development site.
We were divorced by then.
Naya believed he was visiting his brother in Michigan.
Daniel said:
“Mike was putting a bike together.”
“For Molly?”
“I think.”
“He was at Rebecca’s house?”
“Yes.”
Naya grabbed the edge of the dresser.
Last Christmas she had been pregnant already.
Early.
Maybe she did not know yet.
Mike had been building another child a bicycle.
Again, that did not prove biology.
It did prove a relationship far more significant than occasional financial help.
I asked:
“Anything from when Mike and I were married?”
Daniel scrolled through his phone.
“I don’t know dates.”
Good.
Do not make the child forensic accountant.
I stopped.
“Enough.”
“But—”
“You did the right thing telling me. Now adults handle it.”
He looked at Naya.
“Are you mad?”
That question softened her.
“No.”
“You looked mad.”
“I’m scared.”
“Because of Mike?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
Not physically afraid.
I understood.
Afraid of what the truth would do to the life she had just spent an afternoon celebrating.
I opened the door.
Mike stood there.
My mother beside him.
Mom immediately said:
“You’ve upset Naya.”
I looked at her.
My God.
Even now.
Mike held out his hand.
“The phone.”
I smiled.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Who is Molly?”
The hallway went still.
Mike looked at Naya.
Then me.
“Naya already knows about Rebecca.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
His jaw tightened.
“Rebecca has a daughter.”
“Whose?”
He said nothing.
Daniel appeared behind me.
“Yours.”
Mike looked at him.
Something changed in his face.
Not anger.
May you like
Defeat.
That was the moment I knew.
