Chapter 6
The diner was warm enough to make the windows fog at the corners.
I sat in the booth beside Mom, coloring a picture of a rabbit in a blue sweater. My white rabbit rested against my side, its repaired ear tucked under my arm. Dominic sat across from us, too tall for the booth even with his shoulders bent forward. Marco sat beside him with a folder closed under one hand.
Nobody had asked me to leave. That mattered to Mom. She had said it twice in the apartment before we came.
“We talk in public,” she told Dominic while she checked my coat zipper. “And Lily stays with me.”
“I understand,” he said.
He didn't sound angry about the rules. He sounded like he was putting them somewhere safe in his mind.
A waitress brought Mom coffee and me hot chocolate with too much whipped cream. Marco ordered black coffee. Dominic didn't touch his.
Mom kept both hands around her cup. She looked at the dark surface instead of at Dominic.
“I should've reported it sooner,” she said.
The diner noise filled the pause around her. Forks touched plates. A truck rumbled along the street outside. I colored the rabbit's sweater blue, then pressed hard enough to break the crayon.
“What stopped you?” Dominic asked.
Mom's thumb moved slowly along the coffee cup's paper sleeve.
“I needed the job,” she said. “That sounds simple, but it wasn't. I needed the paycheck, the health coverage, and the apartment. If I made an accusation without proof, they could've called me unstable or dishonest. They could've fired me for something else and made sure no one hired me after.”
She glanced at me.
“I couldn't risk Lily losing her home because I wanted to be brave.”
I didn't like the way she said brave. It made it sound as if being scared was something she had chosen.
Dominic's face changed a little. Not softer exactly. More careful.
“You were protecting her,” he said.
“I was keeping us alive in the ordinary way.” Mom lowered her voice. “Rent due on the first. School in the morning. Groceries. A coat when she outgrew the old one. I didn't have the luxury of being wrong.”
I stopped coloring.
Dominic looked at me, then back at her. “Silence under pressure isn't consent.”
Mom's eyes lifted. For a moment, she looked as if she might argue. Instead, she nodded once.
Marco opened the folder and slid out a photocopy. “You said you kept some of the old files at home.”
“Not files,” Mom said. “Receipts. Notes. Things I couldn't explain yet.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope worn at the corners. Her fingers hesitated before she emptied it onto the table.
A diner receipt landed between the sugar container and my coloring page.
On the back, in Mom's handwriting, were several words and a date.
Marco leaned closer without touching it. “What does this refer to?”
“Vendor review,” Mom said. “I met with accounts and procurement that afternoon. The invoices didn't match the delivery records. I wrote down the date because one of the clerks said she had seen the original notebook page.”
“The missing page?” Dominic asked.
Mom nodded. “Her name was Nora Pike. She worked in accounts. She left before the termination letter appeared.”
Marco took a picture of the receipt with his phone, then wrote the date on a clean sheet.
“I can trace her employment record,” he said. “If she moved outside Manhattan, it may take a little time.”
“No contacting her yet,” Mom said.
Marco stopped writing.
Mom faced Dominic. “You don't send anyone to find her. You don't approach her at work or home. You don't let her think she's being cornered.”
Dominic held her gaze. “What do you want?”
“Ask whether she'll speak. Let her choose where and with whom. If she says no, we leave her alone.”
His answer came after a quiet breath.
“Agreed.”
Marco nodded and closed the folder. “I'll contact her carefully. No details beyond your name and a request for a private conversation.”
Mom folded the receipt along its old crease. Her hands were still shaking, but she no longer tried to hide it.
I colored the rabbit's sweater over the lines until the paper tore.
Dominic noticed. He didn't reach for the picture. He only pushed the napkin holder closer so I could cover the rip.
Outside, snow began to gather along the curb.
Marco checked his phone. “I found a current address outside Manhattan. Nora Pike works at a small accounting office in Westchester.”
Mom stared at the receipt.
The diner suddenly felt smaller, though nobody had raised their voice.
“Then we ask,” she said. “We don't demand.”
Dominic gave one slow nod.
May you like
For the first time, Mom looked at him without looking away immediately. It wasn't trust. Not yet.
But it was a decision to keep going.
