Chapter 6
The house was warm and smelled like coffee, but neither of us had made any. She was at the kitchen table in dry clothes — sweatpants and a big gray sweater that swallowed the dress underneath, hair still damp. She'd folded the red dress over a chair like she couldn't decide whether to hide it or wash it.
My blazer was on the back of another chair, dripping onto newspaper I'd laid down. The phone was on the table between us, screen dark.
"You listened," she said when I sat down. It wasn't a question.
"At the creek," I said. "The whole thing."
Her hands tightened around her mug. She hadn't drunk any. "What did you hear at 1:52?"
I watched her. "He said he'd tell Jeff you chased him. That he'd get you off the county contract. That I should ask Jenna how that went."
Her face went pale. "He said that about Jenna?"
"You tell me," I said. "Is there a Jenna?"
She closed her eyes. "Front desk. She left in July. She— I heard she and Marcus had something and then Jeff cut her hours. I didn't think— I didn't think he'd say it out loud like that."
I slid the phone a half inch toward me. "He did."
Rain hit the kitchen window. The fridge hummed.
"I called the clinic," I said. "Confirmed he's the Tuesday rep. So this isn't a one-night thing. He sees you twice a week."
She nodded, tears starting again. "He does. After the party, he kept showing up early. Bringing coffee. Saying we should be careful what people think. I was scared to make it big, Ryan. I thought if I was quiet, he'd stop."
"Did he stop?" I said.
"No," she whispered. "Then I missed my period."
I leaned back. The chair creaked. I had wanted a different answer, but that was the real one.
"Ten weeks," I said. "You found out when?"
"Three weeks ago," she said. "I took two tests at work. I didn't tell you because I didn't know how. And because—" She looked at her hands, at the ring. "Because I'm scared it's his."
The room went very still. Outside a car passed slow, wipers squeaking.
"Okay," I said, after a long breath. "Thank you for saying that out loud."
She looked up, surprised I didn't yell.
"I'm not going to Jeff or Jenna today," I said. "I'm not posting that file. But I'm keeping it. Two copies now."
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Tomorrow morning I'm going to talk to HR. Not the clinic manager, not Jeff — HR for the supplier or the county, whoever actually writes checks. I'll ask what their policy is when a vendor threatens a tech for saying no."
Her eyes widened. "Ryan, they'll know it's me. Harrisburg isn't that big. Everyone knows everyone at those meetings."
"I'll go without names first," I said. "General question. But I'm not lying for him."
She reached across the table but stopped short of touching the phone. "Will you come back tonight? Are you staying?"
I stood. The floor was cold under my socks. I picked up the phone and put it in my pocket.
"I need to work," I said. "I'll sleep at the shop apartment tonight. You sleep here. In the morning, we both go to that HR office together, or I go alone. You choose."
She stood too, holding her sweater around her. "You kept the recording to protect me?" she said, voice breaking.
"I kept it so no one can tell us what happened," I said. "Not Marcus, not Jeff. Just what was actually said."
At the door I paused with my hand on the knob. The rain had eased to a drip off the gutters.
May you like
"That hour you asked for in the parking lot — this was it," I said. "Tomorrow we don't get another quiet one."
She nodded, hands over her mouth, and I walked out into the damp evening toward my truck, the phone heavy against my leg and the town already talking behind diner windows I couldn't see.
