Chapter 2
I saw my mother before she saw me.
She came through the glass doors with snow melting on the shoulders of her coat. Her hair was pulled back badly, as if she had done it while walking. She stopped when she noticed Dominic near the marble desk, then looked at Marco, then at me.
For one second, she didn't move.
Then she crossed the lobby fast.
“Lily.”
I ran to her. She dropped to her knees and wrapped both arms around me, squeezing so tightly my rabbit got caught between us. I felt her breath against my hair.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
I pointed toward Dominic. “He said the letter wasn't his.”
Her arms tightened once, then loosened.
Dominic stood several feet away. He didn't reach for either of us. He only looked at my mother with the same careful stillness he had used with me.
“Your daughter brought me a termination letter,” he said. “The signature is not mine.”
Mom's face changed, but only around her eyes. She held out her hand.
“Give it to me, Lily.”
I didn't want to. Marco had the letter in a clear folder now. He had taken it from Dominic without folding it again. The white creases showed through the plastic.
Marco looked at my mother. “We need to preserve it as it is.”
Mom pulled me closer. “I just want to take my daughter home.”
“You can,” Dominic said. “No one is stopping you.”
That made her look at him.
He kept his hands at his sides. “I need to ask how you received it.”
“Through the office.”
“Who gave it to you?”
She looked toward the snowy doors. “I don't know.”
It was the first answer that sounded like a locked door.
Dominic didn't push. “Was it mailed?”
“No.”
“Left at your desk?”
Mom swallowed. “It came through the ordinary internal channel.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it arrived the way paperwork arrives.” Her voice shook, though she tried to hide it. “I signed for it. I read it. I left.”
Marco watched her closely, but he didn't interrupt.
Mom took my mittened hand. “We're going home.”
The ride to our apartment was quiet except for the soft scrape of snow under the tires. I sat beside Mom in the back seat, holding my rabbit against my stomach. Dominic's car smelled like leather and cold air. Marco sat in front, with the letter on his lap inside its folder.
Mom stared out the window. Every few minutes, she checked the reflection in the glass to see if I was watching her.
Our building was narrower than the plaza and had a front door that stuck in winter. Mom turned the key twice before it opened. Dominic stayed on the sidewalk.
“I can come up only if you want me to,” he said.
Mom looked at the apartment door, then at me. “Marco can come. He has the document.”
Dominic nodded immediately. “That's fine.”
Inside, our apartment felt smaller with four people standing in it. A pile of unopened envelopes leaned against the wall beneath the little table. Two notices had red print across the front. Mom moved quickly to cover them with her coat, but I had already seen the words about rent.
On the kitchen chair sat three cardboard boxes. Her work notebooks filled one. File folders filled another. The third had only a lamp and two mugs.
“You were packing,” Marco said.
Mom's shoulders lifted. “I was organizing.”
“Why?”
She gave a small laugh that didn't sound like laughing. “Because my job ended.”
I looked at the boxes. “Were we moving?”
“No.” She knelt in front of me. “Not yet.”
The word stayed in the room.
Dominic remained by the open doorway, not crossing farther. His eyes moved over the notices, the boxes, and the thin stack of groceries on the counter. He didn't look impressed or shocked. He looked as if each detail had become another piece of paper in a file.
“I can have the document reviewed,” he said. “No promise. No exchange. You don't owe me loyalty or access.”
Mom stood. “And what do you want?”
“Your account of what happened. Privately. Marco present, if you prefer.”
She glanced at Marco. He gave a brief nod.
“One meeting,” she said. “No recording without telling me. No one comes here afterward unless I invite them.”
“Agreed,” Dominic said.
Mom looked down at me. “And Lily stays with me.”
“Of course.”
She didn't thank him. She didn't trust him. But she took the folder from Marco and placed it on the kitchen table instead of tearing it or hiding it.
That was the first choice she made that night.
May you like
I watched Dominic step back into the hallway. Snowlight touched one side of his face through the stairwell window.
Mom locked the door after he left. Then she checked the lock again.
