Chương 6
“You opened it.”
“I stood beside it for hours.”
“You opened it.”
“I listened to them.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
“You are not going to make yourself the easiest person to blame just because you’re available.”
“I was there.”
“So were a dozen adults.”
“Not like me.”
“No.”
She softened.
“Not like you.”
Morales stepped away to answer a call.
Margaret sat beside me again.
“You know Julian lies when he’s scared.”
I turned toward her.
The sentence landed badly.
“How long have you thought that?”
She rubbed her thumb along the seam of her purse.
“Since he was nineteen.”
“That’s helpful.”
“Don’t.”
“No, really, Margaret.”
“I didn’t know he would do this.”
“What did you know?”
She exhaled through her nose.
“He borrowed money from me.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“How much?”
“That isn’t relevant.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
I stared at her.
“For what?”
“He said there was a tax problem connected to a property deal.”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Margaret gave me a look.
“Because you would have asked twelve questions and then tried to solve it yourself.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I asked four.”
Despite everything, I nearly smiled.
Then the number returned.
“Did he pay you back?”
“Half.”
“When?”
“January.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because he called me three weeks ago.”
The hallway seemed to narrow.
“What did he want?”
“More.”
“How much?”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“And you didn’t think that was strange?”
“I thought it was Julian.”
The answer was cruel because it was true.
“What did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Did he get angry?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does not exactly mean?”
“He said Victoria was in trouble.”
“What kind?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
I stood so abruptly that Margaret moved back.
“You kept this from me.”
“He asked me not to involve you.”
“And that seemed reasonable?”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you make everybody else’s bad decision evidence that you would have prevented all of it.”
I stared at her.
Margaret’s eyes filled, but her voice remained level.
“You don’t know that you would have.”
“I would have asked what was happening.”
“And Julian would have lied.”
“I might have noticed.”
“You might have.”
She swallowed.
“Or you might have believed him because you wanted to.”
I hated her for saying it.
Mostly because I had already said the same thing to myself.
Before I could answer, Dr. Patel appeared in the doorway.
“Mrs. Hale?”
I went to her.
“We have preliminary toxicology.”
Margaret came with me.
Dr. Patel lowered her voice.
“We found evidence of a benzodiazepine-type sedative.”
“Is that the blue medicine?”
“We can’t connect it to the cap yet.”
“What does that drug do?”
“It can cause significant drowsiness, impaired coordination, slowed breathing, confusion, especially depending on the amount and what else was given.”
“Could it make someone look dead?”
“Not reliably.”
The wording caught me.
“Reliably?”
“A person who is heavily sedated can appear unresponsive, but a proper medical examination should detect signs of life.”
“So whoever pronounced her dead either didn’t examine her properly or knew.”
Dr. Patel looked directly at me.
“That is a question for investigators.”
It was also an answer.
“Is she going to recover?”
“Her vital signs are improving.”
My knees weakened.
Dr. Patel raised a hand before I could cling to the relief.
“But we’re admitting her to the pediatric intensive care unit for monitoring.”
“Intensive care.”
“She needs close observation overnight.”
“Can I stay?”
“Yes, unless there is a safety or legal restriction.”
“Can Julian come?”
“That will be decided with hospital security and child protective services.”
“Do not let him near her.”
“I’ve already flagged the chart.”
Margaret touched my shoulder.
“When can we see her?”
“Soon.”
Dr. Patel hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Every sentence that began that way had become a threat.
“What?”
“The bruising on Chloe’s wrists and ankles isn’t all recent.”
Margaret’s hand tightened.
“How old?”
“Some appears several days old.”
I pictured the marks.
Yellow at the edges.
Not from the casket.
“Was she restrained before?”
Dr. Patel said nothing for a moment.
“We’re documenting what we see.”
“What else did you see?”
“She has a healing bruise along her left shoulder blade and another on her upper arm.”
I put one hand against the wall.
“She fell.”
Dr. Patel waited.
“That’s what Victoria told me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“You saw the bruise?”
“No.”
“Then how did it come up?”
“She said Chloe slipped in the bathtub and wouldn’t be available for our scheduled video call because she was sore.”
The doctor’s expression remained professional.
Mine did not.
“How many things did they tell me that were excuses?”
“That’s not something I can answer.”
Margaret said, “Can Chloe?”
Dr. Patel looked toward the room.
“Eventually, maybe.”
The word eventually frightened me more than I expected.
It suggested there were truths that could not be pulled from a six-year-old simply because adults desperately needed them.
Dana joined us a few minutes later with another woman carrying a county identification badge.
“This is Renee Lawson from child protective services.”
Renee was in her fifties, with silver threaded through tight black curls and the expression of someone who had stopped being impressed by other people’s outrage.
She shook my hand.
“I’m going to need to understand Chloe’s living situation.”
“I already told Dana.”
“I’ll review what she has.”
“Good.”
Renee did not react to my tone.
“Is there another parent?”
“Julian is her father.”
“I mean another legal parent.”
“Victoria adopted her after Julian’s first wife died.”
Renee’s eyes lifted.
“How did Chloe’s biological mother die?”
“A car accident.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Any siblings?”
“No.”
“Other regular caregivers?”
“Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
I thought of Rosa.
“The housekeeper.”
“Rosa what?”
“I don’t know.”
Renee made a note.
“When did she stop?”
“I’m not sure she did.”
“Did you see her recently?”
“Not in the last month.”
May you like
“Did anyone mention why?”
My phone vibrated inside the handbag Morales had returned.
