Chương 3
He stared at the screen.
Her name glowed in the darkness.
Neither of us moved.
It stopped.
A minute later, another call came.
Then another.
On the fourth call, Derek finally answered.
"Mom."
I couldn't hear her voice.
I watched his expression change.
First confusion.
Then frustration.
Then exhaustion.
"No."
A pause.
"No, I am not coming over."
Another pause.
"Because yesterday was not normal."
He stood up and walked toward the window.
"Mom, listen to me."
His voice became smaller.
Not weaker.
Careful.
Like he was walking across ice.
"I almost choked."
Silence.
His shoulders dropped.
"No, that's not what happened."
Another pause.
"Stop saying that."
I looked away.
There were some conversations that felt too private to witness, even when they affected you.
Then Derek said something that made me turn back.
"Did you call the man who sold it?"
My stomach tightened.
Derek looked at me.
I knew immediately something had changed.
"Mom."
His voice was different.
"Who was he?"
Pearl said something.
Derek listened.
Then he closed his eyes.
"No."
A long pause.
"Where is the rest of it?"
He didn't speak for several seconds.
When he finally did, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"You still have another one?"
I stood.
Derek ended the call.
"What?"
He put the phone down.
"She bought two."
I felt cold despite the apartment being warm.
"Why?"
"She said the first one wasn't enough."
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then Derek grabbed his jacket.
"Where are you going?"
"Back there."
"No."
He looked at me.
"I need to know what she has."
He hesitated.
That hesitation hurt.
Not because he didn't want me there.
Because I understood what it meant.
Going back meant admitting what happened was real.
It meant stepping into a place where he had spent most of his life pretending he was fine.
"I don't want you near her," he said.
"I don't want you alone with her."
He looked away.
"I don't know what she'll do."
The fact that he said it so calmly scared me more than if he had panicked.
We drove separately.
Derek insisted on taking his own car.
I followed him through familiar streets that suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Pearl lived twelve minutes away.
Twelve minutes from our apartment.
Twelve minutes from all the times she had invited herself over.
Twelve minutes from every conversation where I wondered if I was being unfair.
When we pulled up, her front door was open.
That immediately felt wrong.
Pearl was obsessive about locking doors.
Derek walked faster.
"Mom?"
No answer.
Inside, the house smelled like coffee and cleaning products.
The same smell as every holiday gathering.
The same smell as every uncomfortable dinner where everyone pretended nothing was wrong.
A small cooler sat on the kitchen counter.
The lid was open.
Empty.
Derek stopped.
I watched the color leave his face.
"Where is she?"
A sound came from the living room.
Pearl was sitting in her father's old chair.
She looked tired.
Not defeated.
Tired.
"I knew you'd come."
Derek stared at her.
"What did you do with it?"
She looked at me.
Then back at him.
"You brought her."
"Answer me."
Pearl folded her hands.
"I got rid of it."
Derek didn't relax.
He knew her too well.
"Where?"
She looked toward the floor.
"I threw it away."
"No, you didn't."
Her eyes flashed.
For the first time, I saw anger replace control.
"You think you know everything now?"
"No."
Derek stepped closer.
"I think I know you."
Pearl looked wounded by that.
Almost like he had insulted her.
"You have no idea what I've done for you."
Derek swallowed.
"I know exactly what you've done."
The silence that followed was heavier than shouting.
Pearl looked at him for a long time.
Then she reached into the drawer beside her chair.
My body went tense.
Derek moved in front of me.
But she only pulled out a folded envelope.
"I was going to give this to you."
She placed it on the table.
Derek didn't touch it.
"What is it?"
"Something your father left."
The room changed.
Not because of the envelope.
Because of the way Pearl said it.
Like she had been saving those words for years.
And like she knew exactly when to use them.
The envelope sat between us like something alive.
Derek did not reach for it.
He stared at the handwriting on the front instead.
His father's handwriting.
I had seen it before on birthday cards and old notes tucked into cookbooks, but I had never seen Derek react to it like this.
His fingers moved slightly at his side.
Not reaching.
Remembering.
Pearl noticed.
Of course she noticed.
She noticed everything when it involved her son.
"Your father wanted you to have that."
Derek's eyes stayed on the envelope.
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
Pearl looked away.
"I wasn't ready."
"For what?"
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
For once, she didn't have an immediate answer.
That scared me more than any argument would have.
Pearl always had an answer.
Even when she was wrong.
Especially when she was wrong.
Derek picked up the envelope.
It was thin.
Too thin to contain anything important.
But some things did not weigh what they carried.
"Where was this?"
"In his desk."
"You went through his desk?"
"I had to organize things."
Derek laughed quietly.
There was no humor in it.
"You mean after he died."
Pearl's expression changed.
"You were sixteen."
"I was old enough to know what was happening."
"You were a child."
"I was old enough to see you throwing away his things."
The words landed harder than I expected.
Pearl looked at him.
Not angry.
Hurt.
And that almost made me forget what she had done.
Almost.
Because that was Pearl's greatest strength.
She could make people feel cruel for resisting her pain.
"I was trying to protect you," she said.
Derek held the envelope.
"From what?"
May you like
She didn't answer.
The old house seemed to get quieter.
