He was standing beside the island, furious.
The mistress held the baby near the doorway.
For a moment, Naya hesitated.
Then answered.
"I'm not sure."
The attorney's tone became firmer.
She advised Naya to move to safety if the confrontation escalated and contact emergency services if anyone threatened or assaulted her. She also explained that the husband had no right to force an immediate departure merely because he presented divorce papers.
Naya listened.
Then nodded.
When she ended the call, her husband was staring at her.
"What did she say?"
Naya looked toward him.
"That nobody is signing anything in this kitchen today."
He laughed sharply.
"You think your lawyer runs this house now?"
Naya shook her head.
"No."
She glanced toward the staircase.
"But I think you need to stop pretending that shouting makes you right."
His face reddened.
The mistress stepped backward.
For a moment, the husband looked as though he might grab the folder again.
Instead, he struck the countertop with his palm.
The sharp sound made everyone flinch.
Naya instinctively placed both hands over her stomach.
The infant began crying.
And something in the room shifted.
The husband looked toward the baby.
Then toward Naya.
For a brief moment, shame crossed his face.
But it passed quickly.
He straightened.
"This is ridiculous."
Naya stood carefully.
She didn't move toward him.
She simply stepped away from the island, leaving a safe distance between them.
"No," she said.
Her voice was quiet.
"What's ridiculous is thinking you could bring another woman into my home, frighten me into leaving, and make the whole thing disappear before your lunch meeting."
He stared.
She continued.
"I'm not fighting with you in front of either child."
The mistress looked toward the infant.
Naya then turned toward her.
"If you need a quiet place to settle your daughter before you leave, you can use the chair near the front door. But you are not moving into the upstairs bedrooms."
The mistress seemed surprised.
For several seconds, she didn't respond.
Then nodded stiffly.
"Fine."
Her husband looked toward the suitcase.
"Leave it there."
The mistress turned sharply.
"What?"
He frowned.
"We're not leaving yet."
She stared at him.
"Speak for yourself."
Then she pulled the suitcase toward the doorway.
A car arrived outside.
Naya's closest friend had been waiting nearby, as arranged the night before.
She was a thirty-three-year-old pediatric nurse who had known Naya since college. She was practical, loyal, and rarely impressed by people who confused loudness with authority.