“Technically.”
My hands began shaking.
I hated that he saw it.
Luca turned the phone away.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I told him Fiona was safe.”
“Okay.”
“He changed the locks three days ago.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“He put our things outside. He cut off my access to the household account. I told him we were staying with family.”
The phone vibrated again.
Luca read the new message.
“There appears to be a filing in Cook County,” he said carefully. “My attorney is pulling it.”
“What filing?”
“It says emergency custody.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not the person who should explain that.”
His answer surprised me.
A different man might have pretended to know everything.
Luca did not.
“But,” he continued, “I have attorneys who can make sure you speak with the right person before you walk into that terminal.”
I looked at Fiona.
“She can’t take Fiona from me because he lies, can she?”
“I don’t know what a judge has seen or what he filed. But nobody standing at an airport gets to decide that by himself.”
I swallowed.
David had always been good at certainty.
He said things as if saying them firmly enough made them true.
You’ll never manage without me.
Nobody is going to believe that.
The money is mine because I earned it.
You’re being emotional.
You’re making this worse.
I had spent years confusing confidence with authority.
“I need to call Natalie.”
“Call her.”
I did.
She answered immediately.
“Did you land?”
“Almost.”
“What happened?”
I looked at Luca.
“My husband is at the airport.”
There was a long silence.
“David?”
“Yes.”
“How does he know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not go out there alone.”
“I won’t.”
I heard Natalie’s husband talking in the background.
Then Natalie said, “Come here if you can. If you can’t, call me the second you know where you’re going.”
“I will.”
When the plane reached the gate, most passengers stood immediately.
Luca remained seated.
So did I.
Fiona woke and rubbed her eyes.
“Are we in New York?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Is Cousin Natalie here?”
“Soon.”
The flight attendant quietly asked us to wait.
A few minutes later, a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit entered the aircraft and walked toward us.
“Mr. Sterling.”
“Marcus.”
His eyes moved to me.
“This is Blaire.”
Marcus nodded politely.
