Chương 12
Beth was sitting at the top of the stairs with a blanket around her shoulders.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
I whispered, “Why are you sitting there?”
“Because I heard you talking and didn’t want to barge in.”
“You could have gone back to bed.”
“I could also take up competitive fencing.”
I almost smiled.
Then she saw my face.
“What happened?”
I sat on the top step beside her.
The house was quiet enough that I could hear the refrigerator cycling downstairs.
“Rachel used to make Lily practice packing.”
Beth did not react immediately.
“Packing for what?”
“I don’t know.”
I told her what Lily had said.
Beth’s blanket slipped off one shoulder.
“She said before you changed your mind?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
I heard how often I had said those words tonight.
They no longer sounded honest.
They sounded like a room I kept hiding inside.
Beth whispered, “You have to call the officer.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
“I know.”
I dialed Ruiz.
He answered on the third ring.
His voice sounded awake.
That bothered me because it meant his night had not ended either.
I told him exactly what Lily had said.
I resisted the urge to interpret it.
He asked whether Lily was awake.
“No.”
“Don’t wake her.”
“Okay.”
“Did she say where they were supposed to go?”
“No.”
“Did she say when this started?”
“No.”
“Any mention of a destination, airport, hotel, relative, anything like that?”
“No.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“She said passport folder.”
“I heard you.”
“Her passport is in that box.”
“We’re addressing that.”
“What does that mean?”
He paused.
“We obtained consent from Rachel to secure some personal property relevant to the investigation.”
My spine straightened.
“She consented?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You’d have to ask her.”
“Did you find the passport?”
“Yes.”
I stood up so quickly Beth grabbed my elbow.
“Was it still in the box?”
“No.”
The hallway seemed to narrow.
“Where was it?”
Ruiz hesitated.
“In Rachel’s bedroom luggage.”
“Our bedroom.”
“Right.”
“What luggage?”
“A carry-on suitcase in the closet.”
I pressed my free hand against the wall.
“Was it packed?”
“Partially.”
“With whose things?”
“Rachel’s.”
“Lily’s?”
“Not in that suitcase.”
“Anything else?”
“We’re still documenting.”
I closed my eyes.
“What happens now?”
“Now you stay where you are.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I mean that literally.”
My eyes opened.
“Why?”
“Because until we know more, I don’t want you returning home.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
“What about Rachel?”
“She remains in custody pending review.”
“Can she call me?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the phone.
“Can I block her?”
“Yes.”
“Should I?”
“That’s your decision.”
I hated that.
I wanted someone to tell me exactly what to do.
Then I thought about Lily asking whether she could be sad and still not go back.
“Yes,” I said.
Ruiz was quiet.
“Yes what?”
“I’m blocking her.”
“Okay.”
After the call, I stood at the top of Beth’s stairs and did it.
Rachel’s name disappeared from the active message list.
The act felt both enormous and embarrassingly small.
A thumb pressed against glass.
A marriage reduced to settings.
Beth watched me.
“Do you want coffee?”
“At three thirty in the morning?”
“I didn’t say it was a good idea.”
“I want coffee.”
We went downstairs.
Beth’s kitchen had one cabinet door hanging slightly crooked.
Her husband had apparently taken half the mugs when he moved out but left every single travel cup.
She opened three cabinets before finding coffee filters.
“I still don’t know where anything is.”
“You’ve lived here four months.”
“Exactly.”
The coffee maker started making a sputtering sound like it objected to being awake.
Beth leaned against the counter.
“Do you want me to say I never liked Rachel?”
“No.”
“Good, because I did.”
I looked at her.
“I liked her.”
“I know.”
“She helped me when Dan left.”
“I know.”
“She brought boxes.”
“I remember.”
“She stayed until two in the morning.”
“I know.”
Beth stared at the coffee dripping into the pot.
“She was good to me.”
“That’s allowed.”
Beth looked up.
“It feels disloyal to Lily.”
“No.”
I surprised myself with the answer.
“People aren’t one thing.”
“That sounds generous.”
“It isn’t.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug Beth gave me.
“It’s worse.”
“How?”
“Because if she had been awful all the time, I would have seen it.”
Beth did not answer.
I continued.
“She made pancakes shaped like animals.”
“She knew Lily’s teachers.”
“She took care of me when I had the flu.”
“I married someone who did all of those things and still did this.”
Beth’s eyes filled.
“That doesn’t mean you should have known.”
“Stop.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better.”
“Good.”
“I’m saying people hide things.”
“Lily didn’t hide that she was afraid.”
Beth’s mouth closed.
I stared into my coffee.
“She asked if I’d be home.”
“She stopped wanting Rachel to pick her up from art club.”
“She started locking the bathroom door.”
“I noticed all of it.”
“You didn’t know what it meant.”
“I didn’t ask enough.”
Beth sat across from me.
“Then ask enough now.”
The sentence stayed with me.
At four fifteen, Lily called from upstairs.
“Mom?”
I was halfway out of the chair before she finished.
She was sitting upright when I entered.
Her eyes were wet.
“I had a bad dream.”
I sat beside her.
“Want to tell me?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
She leaned against me.
After a while she asked, “Is Rachel still in jail?”
“Yes.”
“Did she call?”
“Yes.”
“Did you answer?”
“No.”
Lily picked at the seam of my sleeve.
“Is she mad?”
“I don’t know.”
That word again.
I corrected myself.
“She’s probably upset.”
“At me?”
“I don’t think this is about you doing something wrong.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I looked down at her.
“No.”
Then I forced myself to be more precise.
“If she is angry with you, that anger is not yours to fix.”
May you like
Lily’s brow furrowed.
“She always says people make her feel things.”
