14. Ryan #2
Her eyes flick to mine. “All of them?”
“Every one you’re comfortable sending.”
“I want you to have all of them.”
My phone starts vibrating with the messages. I keep FaceTime open and start scrolling.
The first photo loads. Tobias. I’ve known that kid most of his life.
Watched him chase frogs between our lake houses.
Seen him jump into water nobody said he could.
Had him talk at me for twenty straight minutes about something I stopped following nineteen minutes in.
There’s a red mark across his face. The next picture is his arm. Fingerprints. My jaw locks.
Then Ally. Her arms are worse in the pictures. The mark on her cheek. Her lip. I stare at that one too long.
Then Jane’s come through, and I stop. Her shoulder, already bruising. The angry mark along her side from the table. Her wrist. Her arm.
For months we’ve wondered why Jane never did more. Why she let Roman make every decision. Why she whispered instead of screamed. Why every small act of helping Ally had to happen when Roman wasn’t looking. Now I’m looking at part of the answer.
Roman O’Toole hit his six-year-old son. Grabbed and shook my girl and slapped her across the face. Then beat his wife when she tried to stop him. I save every picture.
Roman doesn’t know Ally is carrying my baby. Doesn’t know she’s mine. Doesn’t know the five of us are already in this. Doesn’t know Arthur’s been digging. He has no idea how many people are quietly standing on the other side of this. Good. Let him stay stupid a little longer.
“There’s more,” Ally says.
“Tell me.”
She starts with the ring — her mom’s face when she saw it. Not happiness. Fear. Then the envelope. “Celeste Fournier. The wedding planner.”
I grab the notebook beside my laptop. “Spell it. What did Jane say?”
“She saw the name and said, ‘Celeste Fournier agreed?’”
I write it down. “Agreed.”
“That’s what caught me too. She wouldn’t really explain it. Just that Celeste is selective and everyone in their circle knows her.” I nod. “So I asked if she planned Victor’s other weddings.”
My pen stops. “And?”
“She avoided it. So I asked about Marianne. That’s when she told me she knew her.”
I lean back. “How well?”
“Not well, she said. But enough.” Ally pulls her knees closer.
“She said Marianne used to be funny. Social. Charities, friends, traveling. Then she married Victor and started disappearing. Victor answered invitations for her. She’d agree to something and he’d call and cancel it later.
Eventually people stopped hearing from her at all. ”
Exactly what we’ve been finding. Exactly what Bella warned her about.
“Did your mom think something was wrong?”
“Yes. No hesitation. She said she was afraid for her sometimes.”
I write it down. “Anything else?”
“I asked why Victor. She gave me the usual — business, connections, their families knowing each other. So I asked if Dad owed him something.” Her voice tightens. “She reacted. Just stopped for a second. Then I asked what Dad gets when I marry Victor.”
I already know from her face that this is the part. “What did she say?”
“’It isn’t simply what your father gets.’”
My pen stops. I look up. “So Victor gets something.”
“That’s what I said. She wouldn’t tell me. She shut down. Then she said there are things about the agreement I don’t understand.”
I circle the word. Twice. “Agreement. Not arrangement. What agreement?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything, never signed anything, Dad’s never mentioned paperwork to me.” I underline it anyway. “And after he left, I pushed her again. She told me Dad keeps everything.”
I stop. “Everything?”
“That’s all she’d say. She was terrified, Ryan. She kept looking toward the front of the house even after his car was gone.”
“Then that sentence was probably all she could give you tonight.”
“That’s what I think.” She takes a breath. “And there was the call.”
“Victor.”
“Dad’s phone rang while everything was still happening.
He ignored it. It rang again. He looked at the screen and answered.
Told Victor he was dealing with something, that he’d been trying to contain what happened at Edgewood since Victor left the school.
” I start writing again. “He tried to tell Victor he never should’ve engaged you guys. ”
“Tried?”
“Victor cut him off.”
I look up. “You’re sure.”
“I have never once seen anyone interrupt my father and have him stop talking.”
“What happened after?”
“He got angry. Said he’d handle it. Then Victor said something else and Dad told him he’d be there. And left. Immediately.”
I tap the pen against the paper. Roman spent the afternoon cleaning up Victor’s mess. Victor calls. Roman goes. We’ve been looking at them like partners. They’re not.
“Your dad answers to him.”
Ally nods. “I think so.”
“Yeah.” I look at the page. “That changes some shit.”
“I thought it might.”
My eyes drift back to her cheek. She catches me immediately. “Stop staring.”
“I’m trying very hard to behave.”
“That does not sound reassuring.”
“It shouldn’t.” Her mouth threatens a smile. I point at the screen. “Don’t. Your lip.” That makes her smile anyway. She winces. “See?”
“You made me laugh.”
“I’ll add it to Roman’s bill.” Her smile disappears. “Come here.”
“I am here.”
“No, you’re fucking not.” Her face softens. I lie back against my pillows and prop the phone closer. “Get closer.”
She moves the phone until her face fills more of the screen. “Happy?”
“Not even a little.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
For a minute neither of us talks. Then her hand settles over her stomach. My eyes go straight to it.
“You’re staring again.”
“Different stare.”
She looks down at her hand. I lean closer to the phone.
“Hey, kid.”
Her eyebrows lift. “It is nearly two in the morning.”
“Our child doesn’t know that.”
“Our child is the size of fruit.”
“Fruit doesn’t own a clock either.”
A quiet laugh slips out of her. She touches her lip immediately. “Stop making me laugh.”
“No promises.” I look at her hand again. “Stay in there, little lime. Your mom’s scared enough years off my life tonight. You don’t need to contribute.”
She’s laughing and wincing at the same time now, thumb moving slow over her stomach. “We’re okay.” Her eyes stay on mine. “I was scared.” T
hat hurts worse than almost everything else she’s told me. “I know, pretty girl.”
“I didn’t think about the baby when I moved. I just saw Dad grab Tobias and I—“
“Hey.” She stops. “You don’t have to explain that to me.”
“But—“
“I know exactly why you moved. I’d have done the same thing.
” Her eyes fill again. “I’d have done significantly worse things afterward, but that’s why you’re the nice one.
” That gets a tiny smile. She looks exhausted now, and I hate that I’m keeping her up almost as much as I hate the thought of hanging up. “What do you need me to do?”
Her answer comes fast. “Send everything to Arthur. The pictures. Tobias, mine — Jane’s too. She let me take them because she knew we needed proof. And everything I told you. Celeste. Marianne. The agreement. Dad keeping things. Victor calling.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Arthur’s about to wake up to a fucking novel.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’ve got you.”
Her shoulders finally lower. Just a little. “Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me for this.” I look at the time. 1:53. “You need to sleep.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not sleeping.”
I run through the list before she can argue — text me when you wake up, if Tobias wakes up, if Roman comes home, one cramp, any bleeding, anything feels weird — and she answers each one, call you, immediately, yes, until neither of us has anything left to stall with.
I don’t want to end it. She doesn’t either. Her thumb moves over her stomach again.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Every ugly thought in my head goes silent. “I love you too.” I look at her hand. “Both of you.” Her eyes get shiny again.
“We love you too.”
That one gets me. I swallow hard. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, Ry.”
The screen goes black.
For a few seconds I sit there staring at my own reflection. Then I pick up my phone. Tobias first. Jane’s injuries. Then Ally. Sweet Ryan gets exactly as long as Ally needs him. Roman gets the rest.
I save every picture into a folder and back it up. Then I send Arthur all of it — every photograph, every detail, every note.
Celeste Fournier. Marianne. Agreement. Roman keeps everything. Victor gets something. Roman answers to Victor.
Need you at my house before school. Bringing everyone.
I open the group chat. Kaid. X. Danny. Iz. My fingers hover over the keyboard. Roman thinks what happened tonight happened inside his house. Behind his walls. Where nobody could see it. That’s probably how he’s gotten away with it for so fucking long. Not anymore.
My house. 6:00. Bring your dads.
At four seventeen in the morning, headlights sweep across our living room windows. Then another set. Then another. By four twenty-five, the driveway is full.
Nobody rings the bell after the first person.
Dad leaves the door unlocked, and they come in looking exactly like people dragged out of bed in the middle of the fucking night.
Kaid with Callum and Thomas. X next, with Gideon.
Danny between Clifford and Theodore, hood up, hair sticking out beneath it.
Iz behind Arthur, last. No girls. No moms. Just the five of us and the men who’ve spent the last year helping us clean up one disaster after another.
Arthur shuts the door and looks at me. “Everyone’s here.”
“Dad gestures toward the dining room. Nobody complains. Nobody really talks, either, and that alone makes this feel wrong — usually putting the five of us in one room guarantees somebody starts shit inside thirty seconds. This morning Kaid takes one look at me and doesn’t bother.
X drops into a chair. Danny stays standing beside Clifford.
Iz leans against the wall. The dads spread out wherever there’s room.
Dad sits beside me. Arthur stands at the end of the table and looks around once.