Chapter 3
Claudia did not deny canceling the appointments.
She lifted her chin instead.
“I was tired of doctors turning normal behavior into something pathological.”
Richard watched her.
“You canceled medical appointments for a child who isn’t yours.”
“I’m his stepmother.”
“Not his physician.”
Her fingers tightened around the bracelet on her wrist.
Richard noticed the movement.
It was the first physical sign that her confidence was costing effort.
Mark stepped beside her.
“We decided together.”
Richard looked at his son.
“Did you?”
A pause.
Mark’s eyes flickered toward Claudia.
Too fast for most people.
Not for Richard.
He turned to one of the housekeepers.
“Show me Noah’s room.”
Mark stood.
“That isn't necessary.”
Richard stopped walking.
The room fell silent again.
“What did you say?”
Mark swallowed.
Richard waited.
“Nothing.”
Upstairs, Noah’s bedroom looked strangely empty.
The shelves had been cleared.
Most clothing was gone.
No toys remained except a broken wooden truck beneath the bed.
Three cardboard boxes sat against the wall.
Richard opened one.
Clothes.
Another.
Books.
The third contained Noah’s shoes, winter coat and several family photographs.
On the desk sat a folder.
Mark reached for it.
Richard got there first.
Inside was an application to a residential behavioral program in Utah.
Admission date:
Tomorrow.
Richard stared at it.
“You were sending him away?”
Mark’s voice hardened.
“He needs structure.”
Noah stood behind Richard holding the edge of his overcoat.
Claudia entered.
“He bites. Screams. Lies. Runs away.”
Richard looked toward Noah.
The child’s eyes dropped.
Mark continued:
“You don't live with him. You only see the sweet version.”
Richard turned another page.
A recommendation from a child therapist supported residential placement.
Signed.
Dated.
Richard recognized the therapist’s name because Sarah had once mentioned her.
He called from the room.
Dr. Helen Price answered after several rings.
Richard identified himself and read the recommendation.
Silence.
Then Helen said:
“Mr. Bellacorte, I never wrote that.”
Mark stopped breathing.
Richard slowly looked at him.
Helen continued:
“I met Noah once.”
May you like
Another pause.
“And I specifically told his father that removing him from familiar caregivers could make his trauma worse.”
