Chương 10
Victoria stood behind her with one hand on her shoulder.
I zoomed in.
No bruise.
No fear I could prove.
Just a child and her stepmother and a yellow paper crown.
“Don’t do that,” Margaret said.
“What?”
“Search every photograph for the moment everything went bad.”
“How else am I supposed to know when it started?”
“You may never know.”
“I need to.”
“No, you want to.”
I turned on her.
“You always have a neat distinction ready.”
“And you always turn wanting into needing when you can’t stand uncertainty.”
The argument was old enough to have belonged to our mother.
I nearly told Margaret to go home.
Then I saw her mismatched shoes again and swallowed the words.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s useful.”
“I’ll be sorry tomorrow.”
Renee pretended not to hear us.
Morales did not.
His mouth twitched once.
Then his phone rang.
He answered and walked away.
A few minutes later, Dana came out of Chloe’s room.
“She’s asking for you.”
I went in immediately.
Chloe’s eyes were open.
The oxygen mask had been replaced by a smaller tube beneath her nose.
She looked annoyed by it.
“That thing tickles.”
“I can ask them to make it less tickly.”
“They said no.”
“Then apparently I have no authority here.”
She watched me carefully.
“Are you mad?”
“At the tube?”
“At me.”
“No.”
“You looked mad before.”
“I was scared.”
“That looks mad on you.”
I sat beside the bed.
“You’re not wrong.”
She picked at the edge of the blanket.
“Where’s Aunt Margaret?”
“Outside.”
“She wears old lady shoes.”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
“She would be devastated to hear that.”
“Don’t tell her.”
“I’ll protect you.”
Chloe thought about that word.
Her hand stopped moving.
“Daddy said that too.”
The room seemed to contract.
I kept my voice even.
“What did he say he was protecting you from?”
She stared at the blanket.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“Are police outside?”
“Yes.”
“Did Daddy call them?”
“No.”
“You did.”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
“You said you wouldn’t let them take me.”
“I won’t let anyone take you somewhere unsafe.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
Her eyes filled again.
I wanted to promise too much.
I wanted to tell her she would come home with me and sleep in the room with the blue curtains and never see Julian or Victoria unless she chose to.
Renee’s question stopped me.
Even if Chloe asked?
Children could love people who frightened them.
Adults could too.
That seemed to be half the problem in our family.
“Where is Daddy?”
“With the police.”
“Is he in jail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he do a crime?”
I hesitated.
Chloe’s face tightened.
“You do that before you lie.”
The observation hurt.
“I was trying to figure out the safest answer.”
“That’s lying slower.”
I stared at her.
Then I nodded.
“Yes.”
She seemed satisfied by the admission.
“I think the police are trying to find out whether Daddy did something against the law.”
“He did.”
The certainty in her voice startled me.
“What did he do?”
She looked toward the door.
“Can they hear?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Can you close it?”
I got up and closed the door.
When I returned, she whispered.
“Daddy made the papers.”
“What papers?”
“The dead papers.”
My skin prickled.
“Did you see him do that?”
She nodded.
“Where?”
“Daddy’s office.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it before you got put in the casket?”
She frowned.
“Before the flowers.”
I forced myself not to ask too quickly.
“What were you doing in Daddy’s office?”
“Hiding.”
“From who?”
She pressed her lips together.
I waited.
Dana had warned me.
Questions could turn into pressure before adults noticed.
Chloe eventually said, “Mommy was yelling.”
“At you?”
“At Daddy.”
“What was she saying?”
“I don’t remember.”
I believed that.
Children heard tone before content.
“Why were you hiding?”
“Because she threw the glass.”
“What glass?”
“The skinny one.”
“A wineglass?”
She shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“Did it break?”
“Yes.”
“Did it hit anyone?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Daddy went in his office.”
“And you followed?”
“I was already in there.”
The story rearranged itself.
She had not gone looking for evidence.
She had been hiding from an argument.
“What did Daddy do?”
“He was on his computer.”
“Could you see the screen?”
“No.”
“What papers did you see?”
“He printed them.”
“How do you know they were the dead papers?”
“Because my name was on them.”
The air left my lungs slowly.
“Did he say what they were?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know?”
“Mommy came in.”
Chloe’s voice changed.
Smaller.
“She said, ‘Once these are signed, she’s gone.’”
I felt my hand close around the bed rail.
“What did Daddy say?”
“He said, ‘I know.’”
Chloe looked at me.
“Then Mommy saw me.”
I did not want the next sentence.
I could not stop it.
“What happened?”
“She asked how long I was there.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
“And then?”
“She said I was spying.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Her indignation flashed, brief and healthy.
“I was hiding.”
“I know.”
“She called me sneaky.”
“What did Daddy do?”
Chloe’s eyes shifted toward the window.
“He told her to calm down.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“What happened next?”
“She took me downstairs.”
“To the basement?”
Chloe nodded.
“Did Daddy stop her?”
Her eyes moved back to mine.
“No.”
I had expected that answer.
It still landed like a physical blow.
“Did he come downstairs later?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He brought crackers.”
I closed my eyes.
Crackers.
Not rescue.
Not police.
Not a key and an apology.
Crackers.
“Did he let you out?”
“Later.”
“How much later?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it dark?”
“It was dark when he came back.”
“Were you alone all that time?”
“Yes.”
I looked at her wrist.
“Were you tied up?”
She tucked her hand beneath the blanket.
May you like
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Mommy used the soft straps.”
