“In the bottom drawer of Dad’s desk. The one that locks.”
“How did you open it?”
Ethan hesitated.
Mason whispered, “Tell him.”
Ethan took a breath.
“Dad keeps the key behind the silver picture frame of him and Grandma at the golf club.”
Victoria’s mouth tightened.
“And why were you looking there?” the judge asked.
Ethan’s voice became smaller.
“Because I was looking for my asthma inhaler. Dad took it away after Mason spilled juice on Savannah’s white couch. He said if we wanted to act like babies, we could breathe like babies too.”
Olivia made a sound before she could stop herself.
A broken, wounded sound from the back of her throat.
Denise touched her arm.
Jonathan shook his head.
“That is absolutely false.”
Mason suddenly stood up.
“It’s not false!”
The courtroom snapped toward him.
Mason trembled, but this time he did not sit down.
“He put it in the drawer. Ethan was wheezing and Dad said he was being dramatic. I begged him, and Savannah laughed. She said he sounded like a broken accordion.”
Savannah’s face drained of color.
“That is not what happened,” she whispered.
The judge stared at her.
“Ms. Blake, you will remain silent unless addressed.”
Savannah sank back.
The judge nodded to Ethan.
“Continue.”
Ethan wrapped his fingers together in front of him.
“When I opened the drawer, I found the inhaler. And the USB. It had a label on it.”
“What did the label say?”
Ethan looked at his father.
“Olivia problem.”
Those two words landed like a match in gasoline.
Olivia went still.
For months, she had wondered how Jonathan seemed to know everything before she said it. How he knew when she had applied for jobs. How her interviews suddenly fell apart. How landlords rejected her after seeming eager. How her old friends stopped calling.
Olivia problem.
