I thought I had misheard.
“Into this house?” I whispered. “After what she did to Jacob?”
David’s expression didn’t change.
“She stays here. Where I can keep an eye on things.”
“Where she can hurt him again when you’re not looking!” I shot back.
“Jacob will be watched,” David said. “And you will not interfere.”
He walked out and locked the door again.
I sat there until the sun came up, holding my sleeping son.
How had my life turned into this? My own husband siding with a stranger who had burned our child?
When morning came, the door remained unlocked. But I knew better than to think David had relented.
I went downstairs with Jacob clinging to my hand.
Maria was already in the kitchen. Making coffee. As if nothing had happened.
She looked up when I walked in. Her eyes were hard. Triumphant.
“Good morning,” she said, with a fake, sugary smile.
I ignored her and reached for the phone on the wall.
David walked in and snatched it up before I could touch it.
“I’m having the line disconnected,” he said. “For now. Use your mobile only for grocery orders. No calls to family. No calls to friends.”
“This is kidnapping, David!” I said.
“This is protecting our family’s reputation,” he answered smoothly.
He turned to Maria.
“Take Jacob,” he said.
I pulled my son behind me.
“No,” I said. “She will not touch him again.”
David stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. Hard.
“Give him to her. Or I will make you sorry.”
We stood there, staring at each other. Jacob trembling behind my legs.
Then Maria stepped close and whispered in my ear, so quietly only I could hear:
“Better do as he says, Elena. Or next time… the soup will be boiling.”
I flinched.
David saw it.
He released me and stepped back.
“See?” he said. “She’s just trying to help.”
He handed Jacob over. My son cried and reached for me, but David held me back.
I watched them walk away—my son, and the woman who had hurt him.
David turned to me.
“Now,” he said. “We need to talk about the will.”
