Chương 3
His bow tie was gone. A red mark crossed his throat where the collar had rubbed. He stood with both hands in his pockets.
“Can I come in?”
Claire looked at Lena.
Lena did not like him on principle at that moment, but she got up. “I’m getting coffee. Five minutes.”
Theo waited until she was gone.
“I saw the clip.”
Claire watched his face.
“Nate showed it to me on the camera screen,” he said. “He wouldn’t give me a copy.”
“Good.”
“I heard Evelyn.”
“And Madison?”
“She’s holding the chair. Evelyn leans toward her. Madison looks at you, then Evelyn says now.”
“That’s what I remember.”
Theo sat in the chair Lena had vacated. He bent forward, elbows on his knees. “Madison says they were trying to make you sit down.”
Claire waited.
“She says you’d been standing too long, and her mother told her to pull the chair so you’d stop trying to prove something.”
“That’s the version they came up with?”
“She says it was supposed to be a joke.”
“My mother told her to wait until my weight was on it.”
“I know.”
“She knows I had spinal surgery.”
“I know.”
“Madison knows.”
“I know.”
Theo looked toward the hallway. A cart squeaked past the door.
Claire had met him at a family barbecue two years earlier. He had spent ten minutes repairing a loose hinge on Evelyn’s gate because the noise bothered him. He worked in commercial insurance, disliked olives, and had the habit of rubbing his thumb over his wedding ring when uncertain. The ring was less than twelve hours old. His thumb moved over it now.
“Did you know?” Claire asked.
“No.”
“Did you know they planned any joke?”
“No.”
“Think before you answer again.”
His hand stopped.
Claire felt something cold settle inside her, separate from pain. “Theo.”
“Madison asked me to keep you near the bridal table after the speeches.”
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said her mother wanted a family photograph. I didn’t think—”
“Show me.”
He took out his phone. The message was there.
Keep Claire close after your toast. Mom has one last family thing planned and she’ll try to leave early.
Theo had replied with a thumbs-up.
“What did you do?” Claire asked.
“I asked you not to leave before the cake.”
She remembered. Theo had found her near the ballroom doors, where she had been considering slipping out before the dancing. He had touched her elbow and said Madison would be hurt if she missed the cake. Claire had stayed.
He covered his face with both hands.
“Send that message to Lena,” she said.
Theo lowered them. “I didn’t know.”
“I believe you didn’t know what it was.”
“That isn’t the same as being innocent.”
“No.”
He sent the screenshot.
“Where is Madison?” Claire asked.
“At the hotel.”
“With Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
“Did she ask about my foot?”
Theo’s silence lasted long enough.
“Go,” Claire said.
“Claire—”
“I’m waiting for an MRI. Your wife is with the person who told her when to drop me. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I don’t know either.”
“That’s something you can figure out somewhere else.”
He stood. At the door, he turned.
“The reception ended. Most people left.”
Claire looked at him.
It was such an absurdly small fact that she almost resented him for bringing it. Of course the reception had ended. The cake remained uncut. The flowers would be taken apart by hotel staff. Half the guests would go home hungry because dinner service had stopped. Somewhere, a coordinator was counting unopened bottles and trying to decide which contract clause covered an ambulance in the ballroom.
“Keep the message,” she said.
Theo nodded and left.
The MRI began after one in the morning. Claire lay inside the machine and listened to its mechanical pounding. She had learned during her first surgery that panic could be postponed in increments. Ten breaths. Another ten. One song imagined badly from beginning to end. Her left foot existed as a heaviness she could not command.
The results showed inflammation and possible injury around nerves already compromised by scar tissue. The surgeon on call used careful language. There was no new compression requiring emergency surgery, but the weakness could persist. It could improve quickly, slowly, partially, or not enough.
“We’ll watch the next twenty-four hours,” he said. “Steroids may help with swelling. Physical therapy will assess you. I don’t want you standing without assistance.”
“Will I walk normally?”
“I can’t promise that tonight.”
Claire nodded.
After he left, she stared at the plastic bag containing the cut dress.
Lena returned with coffee neither of them drank.
At three sixteen, Madison called.
Claire let the phone ring until it stopped. A voice mail appeared. Then another call. Then a message.
Please let me explain.
Claire turned the screen facedown.
“Do you want me to listen?” Lena asked.
“No.”
“Do you want me to delete it?”
“No.”
Lena shifted in the chair. She wore borrowed scrub pants beneath her dark formal dress because a nurse had found blood on the hem. It was not Claire’s blood; someone at the wedding had stepped on a broken glass.
“The police want to speak with you when you’re ready,” Lena said.
“Tonight?”
“They said morning is fine. Hotel security called them.”
“Who talked to them?”
“Guests. Nate. Theo, I think.”
“My mother?”
“She left before they arrived.”
Claire looked at her.
“With Madison,” Lena added.
“Of course.”
A pulse monitor beeped in another room. Claire heard a man coughing down the hall.
“I don’t want the video online,” she said.
Lena’s mouth tightened.
“I’m serious.”
“I didn’t post it.”
“I know. I’m telling you not to.”
“Evelyn is already calling people.”
“How do you know?”
“Aunt Marlene texted. Evelyn told her you fell after drinking and blamed Madison because you were embarrassed.”
May you like
Claire had consumed half a glass of champagne.
Lena lifted her phone. “That’s how fast she is. Before your MRI, she had a story.”
