Chapter 10 - THE NIGHT OF THE BROKEN VASE
Three years earlier, Diane had come to our apartment after midnight.
Jason and I had been married for four months.
She accused me of controlling him because we planned to spend Thanksgiving with my parents.
When I refused to change our plans, she picked up a ceramic vase and threw it toward my head.
It missed me by inches.
The vase shattered against the wall.
Jason had been drinking.
He stepped between us, not to protect me, but to calm his mother.
The next morning, he apologized for losing control.
I assumed he had thrown the vase because parts of the night were blurred by shock.
He never corrected me.
“Why?” I asked him inside Rebecca’s office.
“Why let me think it was you?”
“Because if you believed Mom did it, you would have left.”
“I should have left.”
“I know.”
“Did she cause the chemical burns too?”
Jason lowered his eyes.
Diane had ordered me to clean her kitchen after a holiday dinner.
The industrial cleaner had eaten through my gloves.
She insisted the burning was normal.
Jason had driven me home while I held ice packs against both hands.
He told me Diane had made a simple mistake.
“She knew the bottle was concentrated,” Jason admitted.
My fingers began aching with remembered pain.
“Did you know that then?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca’s voice became cold.
“You concealed intentional physical harm against your wife.”
Jason looked at her.
“I was trying to keep the family together.”
“No,” I said.
“You were protecting the person destroying it.”
He covered his face.
“I don’t know how to stand against her.”
“You stood against me easily.”
He flinched.
I placed photographs of Lily’s bruise on the table.
“You had one job that night.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then testify.”
His head snapped up.
“Against my mother?”
“Tell the truth.”
“If I do that, she could go to jail.”
“If you do not, she may hurt another child.”
Jason stared at Lily’s photograph.
For several seconds, I thought he would agree.
Then his phone rang.
Diane’s name appeared on the screen.
He declined the call.
It rang again.
Then again.
On the fourth call, he stood.
“I need time.”
“You have had thirty-two years,” I said.
He walked toward the door.
Rebecca blocked him with a question.
“Did your mother instruct you to access Emily’s medical files?”
Jason froze.
“No.”
“Did you use your company credentials to locate the clinic?”
“No.”
“Did you attempt to enter Emily’s evidence folder?”
“No.”
He answered too quickly.
Rebecca watched him leave.
“He told us some truth,” she said.
“But not all of it.”
That night, Jason sent me an encrypted message.
I did not leak the clinic file.
Brooke did.
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
Mom is planning something at Lily’s day care tomorrow.
Do not send her.
I called Rebecca.
She contacted the police and the day-care director.
Lily stayed home.
At 9:15 the next morning, Diane arrived at the day care carrying a notarized letter.
It claimed she had temporary emergency guardianship.
May you like
The signature at the bottom belonged to Jason.
And the document had been notarized three days before the birthday party.
