Chapter 5 - What Emma Remembered
Emma refused cake at breakfast.
She pushed her toast away when Tessa set a plate near her and asked whether she could eat in the living room instead.
"You can," Andrew said.
"Nobody has to sit anywhere they don't feel safe."
He'd arranged counseling with a child therapist, Dr. Helen Brooks, who explained that recovery wasn't a straight line.
Emma might laugh in the morning and panic at the sound of a serving tray in the afternoon.
Neither reaction meant she was being difficult.
At their first visit, Emma drew a house with three rooms.
She colored one purple, one yellow, and one black.
"Who lives in the black room?" Dr. Brooks asked.
"My mommy's desk," Emma said.
"Clara said if I was good, I could visit it sometimes."
Andrew felt the pressure of his own silence over the past year.
He'd noticed Clara shutting Emma out around guests and excused it as adjustment.
He'd heard Emma say her stepmother disliked the photographs and called it grief.
After counseling, Emma asked him a question from the back seat.
"Did you know Clara was going to put my stuff outside?"
"No. I didn't."
"But you knew she didn't like my room."
He gripped the steering wheel.
"Yes. And I should have listened sooner. I'm sorry."
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she said, "Zoe listens when I talk small."
That night Zoe brought the notebook she'd started keeping after Emma began hiding food and asking permission to use her own bookshelf.
It contained dates, exact phrases, and the names of guests who'd heard Clara call Emma a burden.
A new message lit up Zoe's phone while they reviewed the pages.
It was from Judith.
May you like
"Tell Andrew the child made it up, or I will make sure you never work with a family again."
Beneath it was a photograph of Zoe's younger brother outside his workplace.
