Chương 4
“You heard her knocking.”
“Yes.”
“You saw her.”
“Yes.”
“You locked it.”
He looked at the floor.
“The latch locks automatically.”
Rachel felt her jaw tighten.
The cabana door did have an automatic magnetic lock when closed. She knew because the superintendent had explained it while showing her the video.
Daniel had still pulled the door shut.
“You closed it.”
“I panicked.”
“About what?”
He said nothing.
She nodded.
“Right.”
“Rachel, listen to me.”
“I’ve listened to you for thirteen years.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, Daniel. Fair was available before tonight.”
A nurse pushed a cart behind them.
Neither spoke until the wheels had squeaked past.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
Rachel almost smiled.
“There’s a recording of her saying you promised I wouldn’t find out about you.”
“I’m not denying—”
“What exactly are you saving with that sentence?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“The situation with Claire is separate from what happened to Emma.”
“It became the same situation when you shut the door.”
“I know.”
“No. You know now.”
“I knew it was wrong when I did it.”
That stopped her.
He looked up.
Rainwater still clung to the ends of his hair.
“I saw Emma outside. She was upset. Claire was crying. You were supposed to be downstairs with the cake. I thought if I opened that door, Emma would see—”
“See what?”
He looked away.
Rachel suddenly understood a detail from the footage.
Claire’s jumpsuit zipper had been low in the back.
Daniel’s polo collar had been turned under.
Not proof of anything by itself.
Together, with the recording, it no longer needed explanation.
“So you chose.”
“I thought I had thirty seconds.”
“For what?”
“To get Claire out another way.”
“There is no other way.”
“The service entrance.”
“That door alarms.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“No.”
“I thought Emma would go find you.”
“She is six.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Do you?”
His mouth tightened again.
This time the anger stayed longer.
“I am not a monster.”
Rachel looked at him.
That sentence, more than anything else, reminded her that Daniel still believed the question concerned what kind of man he was rather than what he had done.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You’re looking at me like—”
“I’m looking at you like I don’t know you.”
He flinched.
Small.
Real.
For years Rachel had wanted to hurt him during arguments and had never known how. Tonight everything she said seemed to land without effort.
It brought no satisfaction.
Daniel glanced toward Emma’s room.
“What happened after she left the cabana?”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
Rachel studied him.
He genuinely did not.
That was almost worse.
“She went to the chairs. Her flip-flops weren’t there. She walked toward the pool. Someone bumped the kickboard. It went in.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Rachel continued.
“She tried to reach it.”
“Why was nobody watching her?”
The words were out before he could stop them.
Rachel stared at him.
Daniel’s eyes opened.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You were watching her.”
“No, I mean the party. There were seventy people there.”
“You were watching her through the glass.”
“I mean someone near the pool.”
“You were her father near the pool.”
“I know.”
“You were the last adult who saw her before she went in.”
He turned his head.
Rachel stepped closer.
“Do you know who pulled her out?”
“I heard it was you.”
“A waiter saw her hair under the water. He yelled. I was coming out of the elevator. I jumped in.”
Daniel’s face lost color.
“She was under?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Nobody knows.”
He put a hand against the wall.
For the first time all night, Rachel saw something in him that looked like fear for Emma rather than fear for himself.
It came too late.
But it came.
He whispered, “Jesus.”
Rachel hated that part of herself that noticed.
She wanted him simple.
Simple men were easier to leave.
Daniel slid his hand from the wall and looked at her.
“Can I see her?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“She asked if you were mad at her.”
His face changed.
Rachel watched it happen.
“She what?”
“She thinks this was her fault because she knocked on the cabana door.”
Daniel sat down on the plastic chair beneath the vending machine.
He did not seem to decide to sit.
His knees simply stopped holding him.
Rachel stood over him.
He covered his face with both hands.
For several seconds neither spoke.
When he lowered them, his eyes were wet.
“I never wanted her to think that.”
“What did you want her to think when you shut the door?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s the problem.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You weren’t ashamed enough to stop.”
“No.”
The answer was so quiet it disarmed her.
He looked at his watch.
Then, perhaps realizing what he was doing, took it off.
Rachel watched him hold the silver watch in his palm.
“My dad gave me this,” he said.
She almost walked away.
“I don’t care.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know.”
There was something pathetic about it.
Daniel’s father had given him the watch when he made partner at thirty-three. Rachel remembered the dinner. Daniel’s father had been dying then, though nobody knew it yet. Pancreatic cancer would be diagnosed four months later.
The watch had become one of the few things Daniel never replaced simply because a newer version existed.
He closed his fingers around it.
“My father cheated on my mother.”
Rachel knew.
Daniel had told her once, early in their marriage, after too much bourbon at a wedding in Connecticut.
“He made you promise never to tell her,” Rachel said.
Daniel nodded.
“For two years.”
“And you hated him.”
“Yes.”
“You hated your mother for staying.”
“Yes.”
“And this is where you tell me you became him?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I don’t need a theme.”
He almost smiled.
May you like
It vanished.
“I don’t know when I became someone who could do this.”
