He frowned. "She was right there."
"I'm going to find her."
First I checked the yard. "Junie?" she asked, trying to stay calm. Processional music was playing, so cheerful it infuriated me.
I went out into the hallway and glanced around the kitchen, the living room, and my office. Nothing. The bathroom door was ajar, and something inside me knew it before I opened it.
Juniper was sitting on the tiled floor in her flowered dress, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked at me with a gaze too calm for a child hiding in a bathroom.
"She was in your office last night."
"Junie?" I knelt down. "What are you doing here?"
"Maribel told me I would be staying here," he said.
My stomach sank. "Did he tell you to sit on the bathroom floor?"
Juniper tree rising. "He said I can't tell you."
My pulse quickened. "Why?"
"He said I stick my nose where it doesn't belong."
This didn't make sense. So go on. "What do you mean, honey?"
The blue folder contained details of the life insurance policy.
Juniper hesitated, glancing quickly toward the door. "She was in your office last night," she said. "She took papers out of the blue folder. I saw her."
A lump formed in my throat. "How many?"
"Three," Juniper said. "I counted them."
The blue folder contained the life insurance details, the house papers, and the legal procedures I avoided because they made my grief seem official. I felt an intense heat in my eyes, but I forced myself to keep my voice soft.
"You did well to tell me," I said.
Outside, Maribel was standing near the chairs greeting the guests.
Juniper's lips trembled. "She said that if I told anyone, you'd choose me and she'd lose."
My heart broke in two. "Never keep scary secrets from adults," I said. "From anyone."
Juniper nodded as if she were memorizing it. I offered her my hand. "Come with me."
Outside, Maribel was near the chairs, greeting the guests. She barely noticed me walking toward her. When she finally saw me, she raised a hand and smiled broadly.
I walked straight toward her. "Maribel," I said softly, "we need to talk."
Why did you put my daughter in the bathroom?
Her smile remained unchanged. "Grant, now?"
—Yes —I said—. Now.
I guided her to the edge of the patio, next to the hedge. The officiant looked at me, perplexed, and then looked away as if he didn't want to be dragged along. Maribel's voice became sweet.
"Are you nervous?" he asked. "Because it's normal."
Why did you put my daughter in the bathroom?
Maribel's smile curved. "My God. Relax."
"She looks at me like I'm a criminal."
"Answer me," I said.
She rolled her eyes. "Your daughter is sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."
"She's nine years old," I said. "In her own home."
Maribel sighed, irritated. "He looks at me like I'm a criminal. It's weird."
"Juniper said you were in my office last night," I said. "She said you took papers from the blue folder."
Maribel's gaze quickly shifted toward the house. "I was looking for tape. We need decorations..."
His patience ran out.
"Three papers," I interrupted.
Her smile faded. "Grant, the music is starting. We can talk later."
She took my hand with that bridal smile, her fingers firm, as if trying to guide me. I pulled my hand away.
"No," I said. "We're talking now."
Maribel's face tightened. "Don't do this."
"Do what?" I asked. "Protect my son?"
"You never met my wife."
Her patience ran out, and she turned to me. "It's not my fault she's like her mother."
The world went silent inside my head. My lungs stopped for a moment.
I spoke carefully. "You never met my wife."
Maribel blinked and paled. "People talk," she said too quickly. "I didn't mean it."
I stared at her. "You used her mother against her."
Maribel's smile tried to return, fragile. "Grant, don't ruin this. Not in front of everyone."
