“I packed a bag.”
“And then?”
“You found it.”
“And you stayed.”
“I was afraid you would come after me.”
He smiled.
That smile was the most frightening thing I had seen from him.
“You knew what I was capable of.”
The sentence hung there.
Not shouted.
Not denied.
Admitted.
Arthur turned toward the door.
“I have arranged for an officer to meet us here. Mrs. Hale, you can make a formal statement now, or we can go to the station.”
Daniel’s head snapped toward him.
“No.”
The word came from somewhere deeper than anger.
I looked at Arthur.
Then at Daniel.
Then at Marissa, who stood with her arms wrapped around herself as if she were trying to keep her body from breaking apart.
“I will make the statement here,” I said.
Daniel stared at me.
“Mother.”
I had not heard him call me that in months.
He used to say it when he wanted comfort. Then when he wanted money. Then when he wanted me to feel guilty for refusing him.
Now it sounded like a warning disguised as a plea.
I touched the bruise beneath my eye.
“You struck me.”
His mouth tightened.
“I did not mean to hurt you.”
