Chapter 2 - The Drive HomeRain began falling before Maren reached the front entrance of Ashcroft Estate.
The mansion's enormous oak doors stood open behind her, spilling golden light across the marble portico.
Inside, the party continued in awkward fragments.
Someone had told the quartet to resume playing.
Maren could hear the violins.
She wondered whether Darlene had already ordered the wooden sign removed.
Or whether it was still standing beside the abandoned champagne glasses, announcing a baby's name no one had permission to choose.
"Maren!"
Grant hurried down the steps.
"Wait."
She continued toward the parking area.
He caught up beside the black sedan they had driven from their apartment in White Plains.
"Can we please talk like adults?"
Maren stopped.
"That's an interesting request from someone who just told me I don't get a say in naming our daughter."
Grant rubbed his forehead.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"How did you mean it?"
"You know how my mother gets."
"Yes. I do."
"Then you should understand why I wanted to avoid a confrontation."
Maren looked at him.
"Your solution to avoiding a confrontation was humiliating your pregnant wife in front of sixty people?"
He said nothing.
Rain tapped against the car roof.
She opened the passenger door.
Grant placed his hand against its edge.
"Look, the money isn't what you think."
"Then tell me what it is."
"My parents needed help."
"With what?"
"Some expenses."
"Seventeen thousand eight hundred and fifty dollars in expenses?"
"Yes."
"What expenses?"
He hesitated.
Maren watched his face.
He was calculating.
She knew that expression. She had seen it when he negotiated with contractors, talked his way out of missed deadlines, or explained why another evening with his mother's business associates was unavoidable.
"Property taxes," he said.
Maren stared at him.
"Your parents own a mansion worth several million dollars."
"That doesn't mean everything is liquid."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you'd make it into something bigger."
She stepped back.
For a second, the rain seemed very loud.
"You took money from the account we use for our rent, our savings, and our daughter's expenses. You hid it from me. And now you're blaming me for not trusting you."
Grant's expression softened.
"Maren, sweetheart—"
"Don't call me that while you're lying."
"I'm not lying."
"Then why did your father ask about Juniper House?"
Grant's jaw tightened.
She waited.
"Juniper House is an old property on the estate," he said.
"I know what Juniper House is. I helped prepare its restoration plans."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because your father sounded terrified."
"He worries too much."
"About what?"
"Family finances."
"Which finances?"
"Maren, it's complicated."
She almost laughed.
For four years, it's complicated had been Grant's explanation for every uncomfortable question involving his mother.
Why did Darlene have a key to their apartment?
It's complicated.
Why had she called Maren's employer about adjusting her hours after the pregnancy announcement?
It's complicated.
Why did she keep referring to the baby as a Hale heir rather than a child?
It's complicated.
Maren closed her eyes.
A small movement beneath her ribs reminded her to breathe.
"I'm staying with my mother tonight."
Grant stared at her.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"Over a baby name?"
"No."
She looked straight at him.
"Over the fact that you still think this is about a baby name."
He released the car door.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Grant said, "My mother's under pressure."
Maren felt her stomach tighten.
"From whom?"
"Just... people."
"What people?"
He looked back toward the mansion.
"Please stop asking questions you don't understand."
That settled it.
Maren removed her overnight bag from the trunk. She had packed it that morning, not because she expected a public humiliation, but because the unexplained bank transfer had made her uneasy enough to prepare for an argument.
Grant watched her lift it.
"You planned this?"
"I planned to have somewhere safe to sleep if the conversation went badly."
He looked wounded.
"You think I'm dangerous?"
"I think I don't know what you're willing to hide."
She ordered a car from her phone.
Grant remained beside the sedan until its headlights appeared through the rain.
He did not apologize.
Instead, he said, "Promise me you won't tell anyone about that statement."
Maren turned slowly.
"Why?"
"Because my mother's reputation matters."
For a moment, she could hardly speak.
"And mine doesn't?"
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The hired car stopped beneath the portico.
Maren climbed inside.
Through the rain-streaked window, she watched Grant return toward the mansion.
His mother was standing beneath the enormous doorway.
Darlene placed a hand on his shoulder.
Even from a distance, Maren recognized the gesture.
Ownership disguised as comfort.
As the car descended Ashcroft's winding driveway, her phone vibrated.
A text from an unknown number appeared.
You were right to ask about the money. But you are looking at the wrong account.
Maren sat upright.
A second message followed.
If you want to protect your daughter, find out what happened to the Juniper House restoration fund.
Then a third.
And don't tell Grant I contacted you.
Maren stared at the screen.
Beyond the car window, Juniper House appeared briefly through the trees.
The old brick building stood dark behind an iron gate.
She had drawn plans to restore its stained-glass windows eighteen months earlier.
According to the Hale Family Foundation's newsletters, construction was nearly complete.
May you like
But tonight, not one window was illuminated.
And the front door had been boarded shut.
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