Chapter 8 - What a Father Refused to SeeGrant spent the next morning making decisions he should have made days earlier.
He called Ella's pediatrician and arranged a follow-up examination.
He contacted a child protection professional for guidance.
Then he telephoned Nora's younger sister, Leah Hart.
Leah lived twenty minutes away in Rye. She was thirty-nine, taught elementary school, and had been a constant presence in Ella's life since Nora died.
"Can Ella stay with you for a few days?" Grant asked.
Leah sounded surprised.
"Of course. What's going on?"
Grant looked through the window toward the pool.
"I think I may have made a terrible mistake."
Celeste discovered the plan when two suitcases appeared in the upstairs hallway.
She watched Grant packing Ella's clothes.
"What is this?"
"Ella and I are staying with Leah temporarily."
Celeste laughed.
"You're joking."
"No."
"Because of something a five-year-old said?"
Grant folded a sweater.
"Because she's frightened in her own home."
"Children get frightened."
"She has marks on her arm."
Celeste stopped moving.
"What marks?"
"Bruises."
"From the pool accident, obviously."
Grant looked directly at her.
"How would you know?"
Celeste's mouth opened.
Then closed.
"Because she fell into a swimming pool."
Grant returned to the suitcase.
"I'm arranging an examination."
Celeste folded her arms.
"You're treating me like a criminal."
"I'm not making accusations."
"Then why are you taking her away?"
"Because I haven't figured out what happened."
The answer seemed to anger Celeste more than an accusation would have.
"You believe Rosa."
"I believe Ella is frightened."
Celeste stepped closer.
"After everything I've done for your family?"
Grant closed the suitcase.
"Stop making this about you."
For several seconds, Celeste stared at him.
Then she said quietly, "You have no idea what you're doing."
Grant picked up the suitcase.
"Maybe not."
He walked past her.
"But I'm not going to ignore my daughter again."
Rosa was surprised when Lydia told her Grant had arranged a follow-up medical examination for Ella.
"Does that mean he believes me?"
"It means he's asking questions."
Rosa stared at the window.
"That's more than he did Friday."
Lydia nodded.
"There has also been a report to child protective services. They may coordinate with law enforcement, and we should avoid interfering with any interview of Ella."
"Did you tell them about Celeste?"
"I provided your factual account, including what you did and didn't witness."
Rosa picked at a loose thread on her sweater.
"Do they know about the slap?"
"Yes."
She looked down.
"Good."
Lydia examined her.
"Rosa, you don't have to pretend the assault didn't hurt because something worse happened to Ella."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Rosa breathed slowly.
"When Mr. Whitmore hit me, I wasn't just embarrassed."
"What were you?"
"Afraid."
Lydia waited.
"I grew up hearing my mother tell me that if I worked hard enough, people would respect me. I believed her."
"And now?"
Rosa looked at her hands.
"Now I think some people only respect you while you agree with them."
Lydia leaned forward.
"That's one reason we're going to be careful about what you agree to next."
At Leah's house, Ella seemed to change.
The cottage was nothing like the Whitmore mansion.
There were mismatched chairs in the kitchen, children's drawings on the refrigerator, and books stacked in every room.
Leah had a small garden with tomatoes growing beside the fence.
Ella loved it immediately.
That evening, she helped Leah water the plants.
Grant watched from the porch.
For the first time in a week, his daughter laughed.
The sound struck him with unexpected force.
He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd heard it.
Later, while Leah prepared dinner, Grant joined Ella in the living room.
She was building a tower from wooden blocks.
"Are you happy here?" he asked.
Ella nodded.
"Can we stay?"
"For a little while."
"Without Celeste?"
Grant took a breath.
"Yes."
Ella placed another block on the tower.
"Will Rosie come?"
Grant looked away.
"I don't know."
Ella considered his answer.
Then she picked up a blue block.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you hit Rosie?"
The question landed harder than he expected.
Grant had rehearsed explanations.
He had told himself he panicked.
He had been afraid.
He had believed his wife.
But sitting across from his five-year-old daughter, none of those explanations sounded remotely adequate.
"Because I was wrong," he said.
Ella looked at him.
"Did Rosie do something bad?"
"No."
He paused.
"I don't know everything that happened yet. But I know I should never have hit her."
Ella lowered the blue block.
"She cried."
"I know."
"She was wet."
Grant nodded.
"Yes."
"She was wet because she got me."
Grant couldn't speak.
Ella returned to her blocks.
A minute later, she said something else.
Something that would remain with him long after the investigation ended.
"Daddy, you were supposed to help her, too."
Across town, Celeste entered Grant's empty study.
She locked the door.
Then she opened a hidden compartment inside her luggage.
A red leather folder rested beneath several folded scarves.
She removed it and spread its contents across the desk.
Bank instructions.
Vendor contracts.
Copies of executive approvals.
And a letter from Ashwood Capital.
The letter proposed completing the Bellwether Commons acquisition before June 30.
Celeste read the final paragraph.
Failure to close by the agreed deadline will terminate the purchaser's financing commitment.
She picked up her phone.
Owen answered immediately.
"Tell me you have good news," he said.
"Grant took Ella away."
Silence.
Then Owen asked, "Does he know about the invoices?"
"Not yet."
"Does he know about Ashwood?"
"He's asking questions."
Owen exhaled.
"Then we have a problem."
Celeste stared at Nora's portrait above the fireplace.
May you like
"No," she said.
"We have a deadline."
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