Derek looked at the picture and immediately said,
“That doesn’t prove I put it there.”
The detective had never accused him of putting it there.
He had only shown him a photograph.
An innocent person might have asked what the camera was.
Derek defended himself against an accusation that hadn’t even been made.
That mistake mattered.
He was arrested that evening.
I expected seeing him taken away to feel satisfying.
It didn’t.
Mostly, I felt exhausted.
Sad.
Then, several days later, Ethan asked to speak to Derek.
“No.”
I answered before he had even finished asking.
The detective later explained that, if it happened at all, it could be brief and supervised.
Ethan kept asking.
Not whining.
Not begging.
Quietly.
Seriously.
Eventually, I asked him why.
“I want to ask why he said you’d throw Dad’s things away.”
I looked at him.
Of everything Derek had done, that was what hurt Ethan most.
The lie about me.
So I agreed.
Under police supervision, with me sitting beside him, Ethan spoke to Derek one final time.
Derek tried that warm smile again.
“Hey, Buddy.”
Hearing Ryan’s nickname for Ethan from Derek’s mouth made my skin crawl.
