Chapter 2 - What Jonah Hid in the Napkin
Then Jonah slipped from his chair and came to me.
His little fingers caught my sleeve. “Mommy.”
He crouched under the tablecloth and motioned for me to follow.
I bent down.
Inside a folded paper napkin, he showed me a tiny shredded piece of lobster covered with lint.
“It fell on the floor,” he whispered. “I saved it for you.”
For a second, I could not breathe.
My son had watched two adults eat the dinner I bought, been given cold rice, and still spent the evening worrying whether I would have something to eat when I got home.
“I wiped it off,” he whispered. “You can have it.”
Behind us, Carol laughed at something Garrett said.
I kissed Jonah’s knuckles and wrapped the napkin back around the dirty little piece of lobster.
Then I stood.
Carol looked up just as I lifted the plate of empty shells.
I let it drop.
It hit the tile and shattered so hard the sound seemed to cut the room in half.
Garrett shoved back his chair. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I took Jonah’s hand.
“We’re leaving.”
Carol’s smile vanished. “You are not taking that child anywhere in the middle of the night.”
That child.
Not her grandson when he was hungry.
Her grandson when I tried to leave.
Garrett blocked the hallway for half a second, then apparently decided I was not worth physically stopping.
“Fine,” he snapped. “Go cool off. You’ll be back when you stop being dramatic.”
I didn’t answer.
I took Jonah upstairs, put his coat over his pajamas, grabbed his inhaler, his nighttime medication, a change of clothes, and my purse.
As I passed my bedroom, something caught my eye.
The bottom drawer of my desk was slightly open.
The locked one.
My pulse changed.
Inside that drawer was a blue legal folder Garrett had never seen.
I didn’t check it.
May you like
Not yet.
Jonah was shivering beside me, and getting him out mattered more.
