Chapter 2

Grant came home after midnight carrying sparkling cider from Olivia's shower, but not Lucy's camera.

He set it on the kitchen counter and loosened his tie as if the night had merely run late. Confetti clung to one sleeve. I sat under the range light with the camera order open on my phone, listening to the refrigerator cycle while the house stayed silent.

I turned my phone facedown. "Where is the gift from the hall closet?"

His hand paused at his collar. "Olivia needed a decent camera. The baby's almost here."

Until then, I had expected him to say he had moved the box into his car. The refrigerator clicked off. Heat surged through me, and I flattened both palms on the table, afraid I would tear the confetti from his sleeve. He had taken our daughter's present to another woman and treated it like a scheduling mistake.

"That camera belongs to Lucy."

"You bought it, Hannah. She hadn't even opened it." Grant poured water, his voice taking on patient correction. "Olivia wants to record the baby's firsts. Lucy can get another when they're back in stock."

A stair creaked behind me. Lucy stood halfway down in her socks, the colorful strap hanging from one fist. Her eyes moved from her father to the empty space beside me.

Lucy raised the loose strap. "When can I have it back?"

Grant exhaled. "Luce, don't be selfish. Olivia's baby will only be born once. I'll buy you a new camera."

Lucy's fingers closed around the strap until its metal clasp pressed into her palm. She did not argue. She wound the bright fabric into a tight circle, placed it on the stair, and went back up without saying good night. The soft closing of her bedroom door struck harder than a slammed one would have.

I opened the retailer's page and turned the screen toward Grant. The model was sold out nationwide, and the order confirmation carried a serial number and warranty registered in my name. "You're bringing this one back tomorrow."

"I'm not taking a gift away from a pregnant woman because a nine-year-old can't wait a few weeks." He picked up the cider bottle and walked toward the den. "Don't turn this into something ugly."

The den door closed, leaving the kitchen under one hard square of range light. Confetti glittered beside the cider bottle, and Lucy's rolled strap lay at the foot of the stairs while the refrigerator resumed its low hum. My pulse still hammered. I wanted to force Grant back to Olivia's apartment, but he had mistaken Lucy's silence for permission. I set the strap beside the order and photographed the serial number before he could rewrite this too.

Olivia's newest post showed the gift table after the guests had gone. The camera sat unwrapped among blue tissue paper, its lens already attached. Beside it was Grant's onesie-shaped card: For all his firsts.

I saved the photo, then opened the electronic shower invitation Grant had forwarded weeks earlier. Olivia's apartment address appeared beneath the parking instructions.

At six thirty the next morning, my sister Megan picked Lucy up for the pancake breakfast she had promised her. As soon as their car turned the corner, I drove across town with the warranty page on my phone and Lucy's empty strap in my purse.

When I pressed Olivia's doorbell, footsteps approached immediately. The lock turned, and Grant opened the door in yesterday's clothes.