‘You need a lawyer.’
‘I can’t afford one.’
‘Then you need the court to see the documents in the right order.’
‘What did you find?’
There was a pause.
‘A check endorsed with your husband’s name nine days after he died.’
Caroline sat on the closed toilet lid, water dripping from one sleeve.
‘That’s impossible.’
‘I know.’
‘Who deposited it?’
‘I can’t say conclusively without subpoena power, but the account receiving the funds connects to your sister’s household.’
From the hallway, Noah called, ‘Mama, can I have cereal?’
Caroline covered her mouth.
Luis said gently, ‘Mrs. Voss?’
‘Send me everything.’
‘I will prepare a summary. Do not confront her alone.’
But Mara confronted her first.
Three days after the summons arrived, Mara came to the duplex wearing a cream coat and concern like perfume. Elliot, her husband, waited in the car with the engine running. Mara held a paper bag from an expensive bakery.
‘Can I come in?’ she asked.
Caroline stood in the doorway. ‘No.’
Mara’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Carrie.’
Only Mara called her that now. Daniel had called her Caroline, never Carrie, because he said her full name made her stand taller.
‘You filed against me,’ Caroline said.
Mara glanced down the street, as if neighbors might be hiding behind curtains. ‘I filed to protect Noah.’
‘From his mother?’
‘From chaos.’
The word landed between them like a slap.
Caroline looked at the paper bag. ‘Is that what the muffins are for? Softening the kidnapping?’
Mara’s mouth tightened. ‘Don’t be vulgar.’
‘You asked a court to take my son.’
‘I asked a court to look at reality.’ Mara lowered her voice. ‘You work nights. You’re exhausted. Your house is half packed. Noah misses school when your car won’t start. You refuse help. You refuse common sense. This isn’t punishment.’
‘You attached pictures of my laundry.’
‘Because it shows a pattern.’
‘It shows laundry.’
Mara’s eyes flashed, then softened too quickly. That was her gift: turning sharpness into pity before witnesses could name it.
‘Carrie, Daniel would want Noah safe.’
Caroline’s hand tightened on the doorframe.
‘Do not use his name.’
Mara leaned closer. ‘Then start acting like his widow instead of his ghost.’
For one bright second, Caroline imagined slamming the door so hard the glass rattled out.
Instead, she smiled.
It surprised both of them.
‘Bring whatever you want to court,’ Caroline said.
Mara blinked. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I’ll see you there.’
Then Caroline closed the door gently, locked it, and slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her back against the wood.
Noah appeared from the hallway in his pajamas.
‘Was Aunt Mara mad?’
Caroline opened her arms. He stepped into them.
‘Aunt Mara is confused,’ she said.
‘About what?’
Caroline rested her cheek against his hair.
‘About who you belong with.’
The morning of the hearing, the sky was low and gray. Caroline wore the only black dress she owned, the one from Daniel’s funeral, because it was clean and it fit. She brushed Noah’s hair twice, packed his lunch, and walked him to Mrs. Alvarez next door.
Mrs. Alvarez, who had watched Noah after school for free since Daniel died, pressed a rosary into Caroline’s palm.
‘I’m not Catholic,’ Caroline whispered.
‘God can read borrowed prayers,’ Mrs. Alvarez said.
