Rachel was quiet. Then: "Howard's off the case. I fired him this morning."
Michael nearly drove off the road. "You what?"
"I hired a mediator instead. If we have issues, we'll talk like adults." She laughed, a little wet. "Don't sound so shocked. I'm capable of growth."
"I never doubted it," Michael said, which was not entirely true and they both knew it.
"Howard's sending a withdrawal letter tomorrow. And Michael? Tell Claire I'm glad she's recovering. I mean that."
"Thank you," Michael said quietly.
"Don't thank me. Just keep being the man Lily thinks you are."
That evening at the hospital, Claire was sitting up, stronger every day, and Ethan was doing homework at her bedside table. Michael told them about Jonah, about Rachel firing Lindt, about the mediator.
Claire listened, and her face did something complicated.
"That's good," she said finally. "That's really good."
"But?" Michael said.
"But what if it's not enough? What if some judge decides—" She stopped, glanced at Ethan. "Walk with me, Michael. Just to the window."
At the window, with Ethan's pencil scratching behind them, she said it low and fast: "Mrs. Figueroa's sister lives in Ohio. She'd take us. No one would find us. No lawyers, no hearings, no one using my boy as a weapon."
Michael stared at her. "You're serious."
"I'm scared," she said. "For him. For Lily. For you. I brought all of this, Michael. Before me you had eight suits and a schedule."
"Before you I had eight suits and a schedule," he repeated. "Claire. Listen to me. You're his mother. You don't disappear. Not from him, not from me, not because some lawyer with letterhead wants to make a point."
Claire searched his face. "You can't promise that. Judges promise things, not fathers."
"Then I'll say it in court," Michael said. "I'll say it under oath. I'll say it however many times it takes."
"But if I cost you Lily—"
"You won't." He took her hands. They were cold. "Rachel fired her own lawyer today. Do you understand what that means? It means the adults in this story are acting like adults. You're part of this family. Families don't run."
Her eyes filled. "I'm tired of being brave."
"Then stop," he said gently. "Let me do the brave for a while. I've been practicing."
Behind them, Ethan said, without looking up from his workbook: "Are we staying?"
Michael and Claire turned. Ethan's pencil had stopped.
"We're staying," Michael said.
"Good," Ethan said, and went back to his fractions like it had never been a question.
Claire leaned her head against Michael's shoulder, just for a second. "You're getting better at this," she murmured softly.
"At what?"
"At being a person."
"I had a good teacher," he said. "She laughed at a lake once, and I've been trying to be worthy of it ever since."
Claire laughed, wet-eyed, and didn't argue at all, not once. Outside the window, October was going gold at the edges, and inside, the machines beeped their steady rhythm, and nobody was running anywhere. Not anymore.
Chapter 15: The Evaluator
The evaluator was a woman named Dr. Patel, with a soft voice and a notebook, and she interviewed the children separately on a Saturday morning.
Michael was not allowed in the room. He sat in his car in the parking lot with the engine off, watching the office door, trying not to count the minutes.
He called Karen. "Distract me."
"Have I told you about the Hendersons' fence dispute?" she said.
"Three times."
"It's a classic. So the Hendersons—"
He listened to the fence saga all the way through, and it helped, the way her voice always helped: proof that ordinary life was still happening somewhere.
Lily went first. She was gone twenty minutes, and came out swinging her arms.
"What did she ask?" Michael asked.
"She asked about you and Ethan and Mom and school." Lily buckled her seatbelt. "I told her Ethan's my brother and you're a good dad and Mom makes good pancakes on Saturdays."
"What did she ask about Ethan?"
"She asked if I liked having a brother. I said he's the best brother, even though he's the only brother, so it's not a big competition." Lily grinned. "She laughed. Then she asked if I was ever jealous, and I said only of his stegosaurus, because Spike is cool."
"What else?"
"She asked if anything scares me." Lily looked out the window. "I said the only thing that scares me is if Ethan has to leave. Because he's my brother and brothers don't leave."
Michael's throat tightened. "You told her that?"
"I tell everyone that. It's true." She paused. "Dr. Patel wrote it down. In her notebook. With a star next to it, I think."
Ethan went next. He was gone forty minutes. When he came out, his face was closed in a way Michael had learned to recognize: the fountain quiet.
"How'd it go, buddy?"
"Fine." Ethan got in the car. "She asked about Mom. About you. About Lily."
"And?"