"You're welcome," Daniel said, and somehow, absurdly, it was the first thing all night that sounded like them.
Morning arrived as a pale blue wash over snowfields. Toby woke demanding pancakes and a snowball fight and an explanation for why the fancy lady bag was gone from the table. Elise, in yoga pants and Daniel's flannel over her cream sleep shirt, said the bag was Aunt Natalie's and they were taking care of it for her, which was true enough for pancakes. Toby accepted this with the elastic faith of children and asked if Aunt Natalie could see him from heaven wearing the hat. Daniel said he thought she would have laughed until she snorted, and Toby, satisfied, requested chocolate chips.
After breakfast, while Toby built a lopsided fortress on the deck under orders to stay where they could see him through the glass, Elise and Daniel sat at the kitchen island with coffee and the letters spread between them like cards in a game neither wanted to win.
"Walk me through every meeting," Elise said. "Every transfer. Every time you almost told me."
Daniel did. He was not dramatic about it. He listed dates, diner names, the attorney's phone number, the smell of Natalie's fear when Greg called mid-conversation and she answered with a brightness that made Daniel want to break the phone. He described the afternoon he nearly told Elise while they were folding towels, and how Natalie had texted him that same hour: Not yet. Please. He described standing in Natalie's closet after her death, the coral bag against his chest, Greg's car audible in the driveway, and the choice to walk out the back door with a dead woman's escape plan under his arm.
Elise asked hard questions. Was there ever anything romantic with Natalie — no, God, Elise, no. Did Greg ever threaten Daniel — once, indirectly, a comment about family loyalty and how outsiders who meddled regretted it. Did Daniel consider going to the police — Natalie said without documentation and without her testimony it would become a he-said-she-said that Greg would win in their social circle. Did Daniel think Elise would have blown Natalie's cover — I thought you would have wanted to save her faster than she was ready to be saved, and I let that thought become a reason to exclude you.
"That last part," Elise said, circling it with her finger on the wood as if it were written there, "is the part that will take the longest to get over. You decided my love was a liability."
Daniel flinched. "Yes."