My Father Married Me to the Man I Watched Shoot Someone, and the Only Witness Is His Wife novel · Chapter 16 of 24

Chapter 16: Park Point

Nadia's POV

My mother's cousin had a one-room flat over a bakery on Park Point, a mile of sand between the lake and the bay, and I lived in it for nine days with the radiator knocking and two suitcases I did not unpack.

I lay on the daybed at night and read my own steno pads.

All of them.

I had brought the old yellow one and the new one he had left on my nightstand, and the stack of court pads from my flat, and I went through them page by page for anything I had written that I had not understood.

I found nothing else.

It had only ever been the one line.

On the ninth day, at nine in the morning, my phone rang, and the screen said Papa.

I let it ring.

It stopped.

It rang again.

I put it on the table and pressed the red button on my recorder, the small black one I keep for depositions, and I answered.

"Nadia," my father said.

"Moya draga.

"Thank God."

His voice was thick.

He had been drinking, or crying, or both.

"Thank God," he said again.

"Listen to me.

"You do not understand what you read.

"It is a misunderstanding.

"I was talking about the Hallorans.

"The Wierzba thing, the Wierzba account.

"The papers.

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