Chương 5
Mom pulled her into an embrace.
I hated the sight of it.
The hatred was instant and childish.
Claire had betrayed me for seven months, and my mother was comforting her.
I turned away.
My mother's voice followed.
"Anna."
"Don't."
She released Claire.
"I wasn't choosing."
"I know."
But I did not know.
Not really.
Everything had become choosing.
Who believed whom.
Who comforted whom.
Who stayed.
Who left.
Who got to be hurt first.
The third recording began before I decided whether I wanted to hear it.
I had touched the screen without noticing.
Daniel's voice filled the room.
"She's going to wear the dress the whole time?"
Claire answered, "What kind of question is that?"
"It matters."
"Yes, Daniel, brides generally wear their wedding dresses at weddings."
"Don't be sarcastic."
"Don't ask weird questions."
"You still have the pin?"
My eyes went to the recorder in my hand.
On the audio, Claire said, "What pin?"
"The pearl one."
"Grandma's?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Anna borrowed it once."
Claire paused.
"How do you know that?"
Daniel did not answer.
She said, "Daniel?"
"I've seen pictures."
"No, you haven't."
Another pause.
"She never posted those pictures."
Daniel said, "You showed me."
"I did not."
The recording became muffled.
Then Claire's voice dropped.
"Were you in her phone?"
Daniel answered too quickly.
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
"You knew about the pin."
"So?"
"You knew she borrowed my green coat in November."
"She told me."
"No, she didn't."
Present-day Claire slowly turned toward me.
"Anna."
My skin prickled.
She looked at Daniel.
"You were reading her messages."
Daniel said nothing.
I thought about my phone.
The passcode Daniel knew because married people, I had once told myself, should not keep silly secrets.
My banking app.
My email.
My conversations with Claire.
My messages to Beth when Daniel and I fought.
The notes app where I kept draft vows because I was afraid of forgetting them.
I looked down at the recorder.
On it, Claire said, "What else did you read?"
Daniel answered, "Nothing important."
"That's not an answer."
"Drop it."
"No."
"Claire."
"When?"
The recording ended.
The final file was from that morning.
Daniel said, "I need you to do one thing."
Claire answered, "I'm done doing things for you."
"Just get her into the bridal room at ten forty-five."
"Why?"
"So I can talk to her."
"No."
"I'm going to tell her everything."
"You said that yesterday."
"I'm serious."
"Then tell her without me helping you ambush her."
"Fine."
A door opened on the recording.
Daniel said, "If you walk away now, whatever happens next is yours."
Claire replied, "No, Daniel."
Her voice shook.
"Whatever happens next is yours."
The door slammed.
For several seconds there was only Daniel breathing.
Then his voice came again, low and almost conversational.
"Fine."
A click followed.
Another voice entered.
The same unknown man from the paint store.
"You still doing it?"
Daniel said, "Yeah."
"Thought you were joking."
"No."
"Man, don't be stupid."
Daniel gave a short laugh.
"Too late."
The file ended.
I stared at the recorder while security entered through the rear doors.
Daniel did not fight them.
That surprised me.
He straightened his jacket instead.
Then he looked at me with the exhausted irritation of a man whose day had become inconvenient.
"Are you really going to let them throw me out before we talk?"
I met his eyes.
"Yes."
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then his expression softened into something I had seen hundreds of times.
The face he used after arguments.
The face that had once made me feel safe.
"Anna."
I almost answered.
That was the worst part.
Some trained piece of me still recognized the invitation.
Come closer.
Lower your voice.
Make this private.
Help me become reasonable.
I stepped backward instead.
Daniel's softness disappeared.
"Fine."
He glanced at Claire.
"You think she's innocent?"
Claire went rigid.
Daniel smiled without humor.
"Ask her why she started sleeping with me."
One of the guards touched his elbow.
Daniel pulled away.
"I can walk."
He headed toward the doors.
Mark finally turned around.
His eyes were red.
"Why did you?"
Claire looked at him.
"Mark, not here."
He gave a small, disbelieving nod.
"Right."
He opened the door.
"Apparently nowhere was a better choice."
Then he left.
Claire took one step after him.
I spoke before she reached the aisle.
"Don't."
She stopped.
I had never seen my sister look afraid of me.
"Anna, I have to explain."
"No."
"Please."
I glanced toward the doorway where Daniel had disappeared.
Then I looked at the recorder in my hand.
"You've both been explaining me to each other for seven months."
Claire's face crumpled.
I held the device tighter.
"I think I'd like one hour where neither of you gets to tell me who I am."
Claire nodded once, as though I had given her an instruction she could physically obey.
Then she walked to the nearest chair and sat down.
Nobody followed her.
For the next minute, the room was filled with the ordinary sounds of people cleaning up a catastrophe.
Paula spoke quietly into a radio.
Someone from catering asked whether the kitchen should start packing the food.
My father tried bending his swollen wrist and immediately regretted it.
My mother found a stack of cocktail napkins and began dabbing uselessly at the paint on my neck.
"Mom."
"I know."
She stopped.
Then she started again.
"Mom."
"I need to do something."
Her voice came out sharp.
"I cannot stand here and do nothing."
I let her wipe my cheek.
The napkin came away red.
The paint had begun drying in my hair, making strands stick together against my shoulders.
A sweet chemical smell hung around me.
Luis crouched several feet away and picked up the fallen flowers.
He gathered them carefully even though nobody had asked him to.
My father watched him for a few seconds.
May you like
"You don't have to do that."
"I know."
