I recognized this tone. Not Caleb, but his father, Richard Voss, at a charity dinner. Men such as these did their best to hide their pain and abuse behind polished shoes and expensive watches. They only shouted at you behind locked doors and only struck when there was a place to hide the bruise.
Caleb was looking down at my phone.
“Delete that.”
“No.”
His smile became thinner. “Watch it, Eleanor. Remember who has been allowing you to live in my spare room.”
I rocked Noah once and then again. “Your spare room?”
“My home. My rules.”
“Mom, don’t,” Mia said faintly.
That faint warning stabbed into me more than any threat could have. My bright, laughing daughter had been threatened to the point she was trying to protect me from the man who was harming her.
Caleb came closer to me. “You are a retired widow on a teacher’s pension. Don’t start a war you won’t be able to win or pay for.”
I looked up at him, truly looked. The silk robe, the perfect smile, and the complete assurance.
For ten years, I allowed people to think I was insignificant because I could use that to my advantage. The quiet women hear everything and overlooked women see everything.
I pressed my lips to Noah’s soft forehead and said, “Caleb, you have no idea what I can afford.”
Part Two
By morning, Caleb thought fear would fix everything.He was seated at the marble island, enjoying his coffee, and she was positioned next to the stove and had a split lip covered with make-up. The Vosses, Richard and Vanessa, arrived shortly before eight o’clock. They looked like high-priced attorneys who just walked in off the runway wearing designer coats.
Vanessa approached Mia, kissed the air beside her cheek, and said, “Darling, just because you are a mother doesn’t mean you have a right to be a mess.”
Richard looked at me as if I had just stepped on dog poop. “Caleb mentioned you had an incident last night.”
I smiled faintly. “He did?”
Caleb reclined on the couch. “Mom, she videoed a private family event, and is clearly unstable.”
Mia flinched in reaction.
Vanessa sighed heavily. “Eleanor, remember that when people are grieving, they may exhibit irrational behaviour. However, you are fortunate that Caleb has been so generous to allow you to stay here.”
That was what they were seeking to portray—some needy emotional widow who has lost everything and now depends on others and is therefore easy to shrug off.
Richard slid a folder toward me and said, “We have established a temporary arrangement for you. Today will be your last day. Mia and the baby need their peace.”
I opened the folder to find a nondisclosure agreement, a check for $50,000, and a threat disguised as kindness.
Caleb was back to smiling. “Take it and return to your little condo.”
“I don’t have a condo anymore. I sold it two years ago.”
He stared at me blankly. “What?”