A thin line of light showed beneath his office door downstairs.
I approached quietly.
Keaton was whispering on the phone.
“I told you not to call here.”
A woman answered, but I could not hear her words.
Keaton said, “The money cleared. You need to stop panicking.”
I opened the door.
He ended the call.
“Who was that?”
“A client.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Different time zone.”
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
I held out my hand.
“Give it to me, Keaton.”
He slipped it into his pocket.
“You’re acting unstable.”
Something in me finally broke.
“Our son watched you take a newborn from a crying woman. You lied about where you took him. Now you’re discussing money with someone in the middle of the night, and I’m unstable?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Why? Are you afraid the wrong baby will hear us?”
His face changed.
