Chương 4
“I can give one now.”
Ruiz shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re exhausted, medicated, and holding a ten-day-old baby after nearly dying.”
“I know what happened.”
“I believe you.”
“Then take the statement.”
Ruiz remained still.
“Elara, if this goes anywhere legally, Mark’s attorney will examine every weakness they can find.”
The word attorney landed differently than police.
More permanent.
More public.
Elara pictured courtrooms, legal bills, people discussing her blood loss as evidence, strangers reading her messages.
She felt suddenly cold.
“I don’t want my son growing up inside this.”
Ruiz’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Inside what?”
“This.”
Elara gestured vaguely at the room, the folder, the entire machinery gathering around her.
“A case.”
Naomi sat again.
“You almost died.”
“I know.”
“Then stop trying to make this comfortable for him.”
“I’m trying to think about Leo.”
“So am I.”
“No, you’re thinking about punishment.”
Naomi recoiled.
Ruiz stood.
“I’m going to give you two some time.”
Neither sister stopped her.
At the door, Ruiz paused.
“One thing, Elara.”
Elara looked up.
“You don’t have to decide today what you want from Mark.”
Ruiz touched the door handle.
“But you should probably decide whether you want him allowed into this hospital.”
Then she left.
Naomi stared at the closed door.
“I hate how much I like her.”
Elara almost laughed.
Instead she carefully transferred Leo into the bassinet.
Her hands trembled when she released him.
Naomi immediately reached to steady the clear plastic edge.
Neither sister spoke for a while.
A lawn crew had started somewhere outside the hospital, and the distant mechanical growl came and went beneath the sealed windows.
Elara watched Leo sleep.
“Did Mark ask to come here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
“And?”
“I told the front desk not to let him upstairs.”
“You did that without asking me?”
Naomi’s face stiffened.
“Yes.”
Elara turned toward her.
“You can’t make those decisions for me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because somebody had to make one while you were unconscious.”
“I’m not unconscious now.”
“No.”
Naomi’s voice dropped.
“Now you’re defending your right to see a man who left you to die.”
Elara swung her legs toward the edge of the bed before she had decided to move.
Pain pulled through her abdomen.
Naomi stood immediately.
“Don’t.”
“I need the bathroom.”
“I’ll get the nurse.”
“I can walk.”
“You nearly passed out this morning.”
“I said I can walk.”
Naomi stepped back.
The anger between them had nowhere useful to go.
Elara took three careful steps, gripping the IV pole.
On the fourth, her knees weakened.
Naomi caught her under the elbow.
For one humiliating second, Elara leaned almost her full weight against her sister.
Neither mentioned it.
Naomi helped her to the bathroom door.
“I’ll be right here.”
“I don’t need you to stand guard.”
“Fine.”
Naomi moved six inches away.
Elara shut the door.
She sat on the closed toilet lid after washing her hands and stared at the pale hospital tile.
Her body no longer felt entirely hers.
There were bruises on both arms from IV attempts.
Her legs shook from crossing a room.
She had to measure standing in yards instead of minutes.
And Mark had spent Saturday night choosing a watch.
The detail returned with stupid persistence.
Not the steak.
Not the cigar.
The watch.
A souvenir for himself.
She pictured him comparing models while her unanswered messages sat in his pocket.
When she opened the bathroom door, Naomi was still there.
“I want to hear the voicemail.”
Naomi’s expression changed.
“Elara.”
“You told me about it.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to hear it today.”
“You just yelled at me for protecting Mark.”
“I’m not protecting Mark.”
“You’re protecting me.”
“Yes.”
“Stop.”
Naomi looked toward Leo.
Then she took out her phone.
The voicemail lasted one minute and twelve seconds.
For the first few seconds there was only wind and men talking somewhere nearby.
Then Mark’s voice came through, casual and irritated.
“She’s calling again.”
Derek said something indistinct.
Mark answered louder.
“No, dude, I saw it.”
Elara stopped breathing.
Another voice asked, “Saw what?”
“The blood.”
There was laughter from someone farther away, not because the sentence was funny but because the group was already laughing at something else.
Then Derek’s voice came closer.
“How much blood?”
Mark made an impatient sound.
“Enough to look gross.”
A pause followed.
Caleb spoke next.
“You should probably go back.”
“No.”
Mark’s voice sharpened instantly.
“If I go back now, she’ll do this every time she wants me home.”
Then came the sentence Naomi had warned her about.
“You reward a tantrum, you get more tantrums.”
The recording ended with Mark ordering another drink.
Naomi lowered the phone.
Elara stared at the blank wall across from her bed.
She had expected anger.
Instead, she felt the strange cleanliness of certainty.
For years she had argued with herself about whether Mark understood how much he hurt her.
The question had kept her trapped because misunderstanding could be explained, corrected, forgiven.
This was different.
He had seen the blood.
He had read the messages.
He had been told to turn around.
And he had chosen a lesson he wanted to teach her over the possibility that she might be dying.
Elara reached for the hospital phone.
Naomi watched without speaking.
Elara called the front desk.
“This is Elara Vance in room six fourteen.”
She waited while the receptionist confirmed her information.
“My husband may try to visit.”
Naomi sat very still.
“I don’t want him allowed upstairs.”
The receptionist asked whether Elara wanted the restriction noted for the duration of her stay.
Elara looked at Leo.
“Yes.”
She hung up.
Naomi exhaled slowly.
“That doesn’t mean I’ve decided everything.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Elara leaned back against the pillow.
For once, Naomi did not push.
May you like
Thirty minutes later, Mark sent a message through his mother because every direct number he tried had been blocked from the room.
He said he only wanted five minutes.
