Chapter 3 - FORTY-SEVEN UNANSWERED CALLS
By noon, Alexander had called Evelyn forty-seven times.
She answered none of them.
He sent messages.
Please tell me Lily is safe.
Evelyn, I need to talk to you.
I'm sorry.
Please.
Every message remained unread.
Alexander sat in the nursery, staring at the empty crib Lily had outgrown six months earlier.
A stuffed rabbit lay beside the pillow.
He picked it up.
It smelled faintly of baby shampoo.
His daughter had slept with that rabbit every night.
Now she was somewhere he couldn't reach.
And for the first time, he understood that money couldn't buy his way out of every consequence.
His mother, Teresa Moretti, entered quietly.
“Alexander.”
He didn't look up.
“Where is she?”
Teresa hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
“Did you know she was unhappy?”
His mother stared.
“Alexander.”
“Answer me.”
Teresa sat beside him.
“Everyone knew.”
The words struck harder than he expected.
He looked at her.
“What?”
Teresa's eyes filled.
“Everyone knew Evelyn was hurting.”
Alexander swallowed.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Teresa stared at him.
“Because she did.”
Silence.
Then Teresa continued.
“She told you for three years.”
Alexander looked down at Lily's rabbit.
And remembered every time he'd dismissed Evelyn's concerns.
Every time he'd told her Sophia was harmless.
Every time he'd chosen convenience over his wife's dignity.
Then he remembered the restaurant.
The slap.
The blood on Evelyn's lip.
And the terrible words he'd spoken afterward.
You brought this on yourself.
May you like
Alexander bent forward.
For the first time since his father's funeral, he cried.
