“Where is she?”
“Upstairs.”
“Renee?”
“Living room.”
“You haven't killed anyone.”
“No.”
“Good.”
She took a breath.
“That is good.”
I almost laughed.
Simone looked toward stairs.
“What does Nia need?”
“For tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Not to be here with Renee.”
Simone nodded.
“Come to mine.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
She stared.
“What?”
“I don't want Nia learning that she’s the one who leaves.”
Simone's eyes softened.
“Okay.”
That was when Renee entered the kitchen.
She had changed clothes.
Taken off her black top.
Put on a gray sweater.
Hair tied back.
A small detail.
But I remember thinking she had dressed herself to look less severe.
Maybe I was unfair.
Maybe not.
She looked at Simone.
“Oh, great.”
Simone folded her arms.
“Choose your next sentence carefully.”
“Stay out of my marriage.”
“This stopped being only your marriage when a child got involved.”
Renee looked at me.
“You called her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need someone I trust with Nia.”
Renee stared.
“You trust your sister more than your wife.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
Her face tightened.
“Marcus, I told you what happened.”
“No.”
“You gave me your version.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m still learning what happened.”
She scoffed.
“Over floor cleaning.”
“Nia says you've told her I might send her away.”
Renee went still.
Simone closed her eyes.
There.
Again.
That tiny reaction.
Then Renee recovered.
“I never said that.”
“She says you did.”