Chương 9
In some versions, she cried.
In others, she hugged me.
In the ugliest ones, she accused me of abandoning her.
The real Claire stood six feet away and said, “You look awful.”
I laughed.
It hurt.
She started crying immediately.
“God, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
She crossed the room and stopped again just before touching me.
That hesitation hurt more than if she had grabbed me.
“Can I hug you?”
“Yes.”
Her arms went around my shoulders carefully.
I smelled cold air, shampoo, and the mint gum she had chewed since high school.
My body stiffened anyway.
She felt it.
She pulled back at once.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I squeezed too hard.”
“You didn’t.”
She stared at me.
I could see questions lining up behind her eyes.
Too many.
Ortiz introduced herself and explained that I could decide how much I wanted to discuss while medical staff continued working.
Claire barely looked at her.
“Where is Daniel?”
“With investigators.”
“Arrest him.”
Ortiz’s expression stayed neutral.
“That process is underway.”
“Underway?”
“Claire.”
She turned on me.
“What?”
“I can’t do this if you yell at everybody.”
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
She sat in the chair Ortiz had used earlier.
“I’m not yelling.”
“You are.”
“I’m speaking clearly.”
“You’re speaking like Dad.”
That shut her up.
Our father had considered volume a personality trait.
Claire folded her arms.
“Fine.”
She lasted twelve seconds.
“How did I not know?”
I looked down.
“There wasn’t much to know from outside.”
“You disappeared.”
“I was pregnant.”
“You stopped answering.”
“I did that sometimes.”
“For a day.”
I swallowed.
She leaned forward.
“I came to the house.”
I looked up.
“When?”
“June.”
My skin prickled.
Claire wiped under one eye with the heel of her hand.
“You said you didn’t want visitors.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Someone did.”
“What happened?”
“I rang the bell.”
Her face tightened.
“Marlene answered.”
The room went very still.
“What did she say?”
“That you were sleeping.”
“Was Daniel there?”
“His car was.”
“And you left?”
The question came out harsher than I meant.
Claire recoiled.
Immediately I wanted it back.
She stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
I turned my face away.
There it was.
The ugly thing both of us had been circling.
She had come.
She had been downstairs.
I had been above her.
Maybe thirty feet away.
Maybe awake.
Maybe listening to footsteps I could not identify.
Claire said, “I should have pushed past her.”
I said nothing.
“She showed me texts.”
“What texts?”
“From you.”
I looked at Ortiz.
She had become very still.
Claire continued.
“They said you were embarrassed about being sick.”
My stomach turned.
“She said you didn’t want me seeing you like that.”
“I never said that.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you know it then?”
Claire’s eyes filled again.
“No.”
The honesty hurt.
I nodded.
She stood suddenly and walked to the sink.
She turned the faucet on, then off without using it.
“I was mad at you.”
I watched her back.
“For what?”
“For shutting me out.”
Her shoulders lifted.
“I thought you had decided Daniel’s family was enough.”
“That doesn’t even sound like me.”
“I know.”
“You know now.”
She turned.
“Yes.”
Her face was red.
“Yes, Rachel, I know now.”
We stared at each other.
Neither of us was being kind.
It felt strangely normal.
Dr. Feld came in before one of us could say something worse.
She looked at the monitor.
Then she looked at me.
“I need to examine you again.”
Claire stepped toward the door.
“I’ll go.”
I caught her sleeve.
“Stay.”
She sat immediately.
Dr. Feld explained each step before touching me.
The contractions had become more regular.
My cervix had changed since the first exam.
Not dramatically.
Enough.
“We’re moving you to labor and delivery for closer monitoring.”
Claire’s hand found mine.
I let her hold it.
“Am I having the baby tonight?”
“I can’t tell you that yet.”
I almost laughed again.
Of course.
The hospital’s favorite answer.
They transferred me upstairs near dawn.
Claire walked beside the bed carrying a plastic bag containing my borrowed charger, water bottle, and the socks Priya had found for me.
At the elevator, she asked whether I wanted our mother called.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because she’ll come.”
“That’s usually what calling someone means.”
I gave her a look.
She almost smiled.
Then the elevator doors opened.
The humor vanished.
A nurse showed us into a private room.
The window overlooked a parking garage and a strip of pale sky beginning to lighten.
Claire plugged in her own phone and sat by the window.
For ten minutes, neither of us spoke.
A cleaning truck moved slowly through the garage below.
Someone in fluorescent clothing pushed a broom around an empty parking space.
I watched because it was easier than thinking.
Then Ortiz returned.
She had a paper cup of coffee and looked as though she had not slept.
Claire stood.
Ortiz looked at me first.
“They made two arrests.”
My heart kicked.
“Both?”
“Daniel and Marlene.”
“For what?”
She listed preliminary charges carefully and emphasized that prosecutors would review everything.
I caught only parts.
Unlawful confinement.
Assault.
Evidence related to the substances still being evaluated.
Additional charges possible.
The words should have felt triumphant.
They did not.
They felt administrative.
“He asked for a lawyer,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And Marlene?”
“She has one now too.”
Claire muttered something under her breath.
Ortiz ignored it.
“There’s more.”
My hand tightened around the sheet.
“The other names?”
“One of them has been identified.”
Claire looked between us.
“What other names?”
I did not answer.
Ortiz pulled the chair closer.
“Her name is Elena.”
The name landed softly.
No thunder.
No dramatic recognition.
Just Elena.
“Do I know her?”
“We don’t think so.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Air left my lungs.
I had not realized how badly I needed that answer.
May you like
Ortiz continued.
“She filed a police report against Daniel four years ago.”
