Chapter 2

I didn’t touch Nora’s phone right away.

“Can I look?”

She nodded and scrolled up. Tonight’s three-part story wasn’t the first.

In April, Mark told her to remember that they had eaten hot dogs by the river, rented two bicycles, and gotten stuck in traffic on the way home.

In May, they had supposedly visited an outdoor market, bought honey, and seen a lost dog.

In July, he sent her details about the weather at the lake, what they had eaten for lunch, and when they would be home.

Each set of messages ended with the same reminder:

If Mom asks, tell her exactly this.

I remembered those weekends.

I had packed Nora’s bag, reminded Mark to bring sunscreen, and felt grateful that he was making time for his daughter.

I had been packing for his lies.

“How long has this been happening?” I asked.

“The first time was in April.”

Seven months.

Nora didn’t cry. She stared at the old messages as though she needed proof that the words were still there—that she hadn’t remembered everything wrong.

I handed back the phone. “These messages belong to you. You decide whether to keep them. You don’t have to answer him tonight.”

Mark called six times while we drove home.

I sent one message.

Nora is with me. We’ll talk at home.

His car was already in the driveway.

When we entered, he stood in the middle of the living room with his coat still on. He didn’t ask if Nora was safe.

“How much did you tell her?”

Nora stopped behind me.

His question answered my first one.

“Who is Dana?”

Mark pressed a hand to his forehead. “She’s a friend going through a hard time. She just got out of a terrible relationship. I’ve been helping her.”

“Why did helping her require Nora to pretend she was at the lake?”

“Because you overreact.” He looked at me. “And judging by this, I wasn’t wrong.”

I knew the maneuver.

He chose the harm, then made my reaction the problem.

Usually I would have explained that I wasn’t angry, only confused.

This time, I let his accusation sit unanswered.

I took Nora’s phone and asked her, “May I read this to him?”

She nodded.

I read his message aloud. “‘Turn off your location. If Mom asks, tell her we’re on the North Ridge Trail. Don’t mention Dana.’”

Mark’s face tightened. “She knew I was trying to avoid an argument. I never involved her in an adult relationship.”

“You made her hide where she was.”

“She was safe. I was in the same apartment.”

“She walked to that diner alone because you told her there would be consequences if she told me the truth.”

Mark turned toward her. “I never said that. You misunderstood me.”

Nora stepped farther behind me.

I stopped him before he could question her.

“You’re not staying here tonight. Pack a few things. Starting tomorrow, all communication goes through text.”

“Evelyn, this is my house.”

“You can leave, or I’ll take Nora somewhere else. She will not spend tonight under the same roof with you.”

Mark stared at me, waiting for me to take it back.

When I didn’t, he went upstairs. A few minutes later, he returned with an overnight bag.

Even at the door, he refused to admit he had made our daughter lie.

“If she hadn’t agreed to help me, I never would have taken her to Dana’s.”

Nora stepped out from behind me.

“I didn’t agree.”

Mark’s hand stopped on the doorknob.

“I never said yes.”