Chapter 7 - Six Months of Portugal
Dad didn't move from in front of us. His shoes stayed planted on the white runner and his hand stayed around mine, and the flowers over the arch kept dropping that sweet smell every time the air moved.
I was Sophie.
That morning we hadn't been supposed to be in that room at all.
Claire stood two steps away with her veil pulled back and her hands clasped so tight her knuckles went white. She kept looking past Dad toward the side door, like she expected someone to come fix it.
"Tell me again," Dad said. His voice was low. "Tell me what you told me about Portugal."
Claire swallowed. "Daniel, you don't understand."
"You told me they were in Portugal," he said. "For six months you told me they were in Portugal."
I remembered the first time she'd said that word to us. We were in the back seat of her car outside our school. It was still light out and the pickup line was moving, and she turned around and said our dad had needed space for his new life. She said Portugal was better for now. She said he would call when he could.
She took our phones that same afternoon. She said she'd keep them charged and she'd let us know when he wrote. I believed her because she smiled when she said it.
Behind Dad, my sister pressed her shoulder into his jacket. Her top was still damp from the rain and her hair stuck to her neck. I could feel her shaking.
Dad glanced down at me. "What did she tell you about me?" he asked.
My throat felt tight. I didn't want to say it in front of all those people, but his eyes didn't leave mine.
I said, "You didn't want us anymore."
His jaw moved. He didn't look at Claire right away. He just breathed once through his nose.
"She showed us your messages," I said. My voice shook. "She said you chose this. The wedding."
"I never wrote a word of it," he said.
Claire lifted her hands. "I handled the school pickup story because you were working late," she said quickly. "I was trying to protect them. I was trying to protect you."
Dad shook his head a little. "You told the school I approved it?"
"You were busy," she said. "You don't understand how hard the last six months were."
I remembered the apartment hallway that smelled like paint. I remembered not being allowed to answer the office phone when our names were called over the speaker. Claire always got there first. She always signed the sheet first. She told the front lady we were under a different pickup list now because of travel.
She told us Dad knew.
Dad looked at the guests, then back at Claire. The light from the arch made the sweat show on his forehead.
"Six months," he said. "No calls. No video. Just screenshots from you. And you standing here telling me they were in another country."
He squeezed my hand.
"We're going to look at those messages after we walk out of here," he said, quiet, just to me. "And then we're going to drive by our house. Okay?"
I nodded. My sister nodded into his side.
Claire stepped forward. "Daniel, please, not here."
Dad didn't answer her. He kept his body between us and her, and I could hear his breathing slow down like he was trying to stay calm for us.
May you like
The pattern was right there in my head now, all in a row. The taken phones. The pickup sheet. Portugal for him. A new life for us. None of us talking to each other, only to her.
We still didn't have proof in our hands. Only her words, and his, and the wet cold still in my shirt.
