Chapter 2 - GRACE DOESN’T TRUST ME
Grace would not come with me.
That hurt.
I offered a hotel.
She said no.
My apartment.
No.
Hospital.
She hesitated.
That was enough.
“You need food and a doctor.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you haven’t eaten.”
“I eat.”
Sophia lifted the plastic bag.
“Not yesterday.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“Sweetheart.”
I turned away because rage was beginning to distort everything.
Not at Grace.
At whoever made this possible.
My driver brought the SUV.
Grace refused to get in until I moved to the front passenger seat and Sophia sat beside her.
Fine.
At the hospital, bloodwork showed:
Mild anemia.
Dehydration.
Weight loss.
No medical emergency.
Sophia?
Underweight but not dangerously so.
A healing blister.
Nothing else.
The pediatrician asked where they lived.
Grace answered:
“Different places.”
I stopped.
“What does that mean?”
She looked at me as though I had no right to ask.
Maybe I didn’t.
“Shelters.”
My stomach turned.
“Since when?”
“Eight months.”
“What happened to the apartment?”
“What apartment?”
“The condo on Mercer Street.”
Grace stared.
“We lost it.”
“How?”
“Your mother stopped paying.”
I almost laughed.
“The condo was paid directly through Sterling Family Management.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Alexander, I cleaned that building for four months after we were evicted from the basement unit.”
Basement unit?
“What are you talking about?”
She looked at me.
“We never lived in a condo.”
I sat down.
For three years, monthly statements sent to me listed:
Housing—Mercer Street residence: $12,500.
Household expenses: $8,000.
Sophia education: $9,400.
Health and wellness: $6,000.
Security and transportation: $5,000.
Living support: $5,500.
Administrative reserve: remainder.
Fifty thousand.
Every month.
Grace whispered:
“I got two thousand when they felt like sending it.”
I stared.
“From whom?”
“Your mother’s office.”
Not me.
Never me.
“What did you think I was sending?”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“After we separated, your mother said you wanted to cut ties.”
“No.”
“She said you’d support Sophia privately until paternity review.”
“What paternity review?”
Grace’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“You already humiliated me once.”
“I never questioned paternity.”
“She showed me emails.”
My heart stopped.
“What emails?”
Grace looked toward Sophia.
Then lowered her voice.
“From you.”
May you like
I knew the answer before she said it.
They were not from me.
