Chương 9
“Can I get my backpack?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
I did not know what Taylor might have put inside it.
That thought made me ashamed.
Then I remembered that twenty-four hours earlier I would have called such suspicion paranoid.
“Police need to check it first.”
“For what?”
“Just to be safe.”
She frowned.
“My homework is in there.”
“I’m willing to risk the homework.”
“You always say homework matters.”
“I have evolved.”
She gave me a suspicious look.
Officer Bell checked the backpack in the hallway.
There was nothing dangerous inside.
A water bottle.
Two folders.
A sweater.
A pencil pouch.
A crushed granola bar.
The library book.
And a stuffed rabbit Lily had slept with since she was four.
When Bell handed the backpack over, Lily grabbed the rabbit first.
“Marshmallow.”
The name had once been white.
Years of washing had turned Marshmallow the color of old oatmeal.
Lily pressed the rabbit against her face.
“Daddy remembered.”
I said nothing.
That was the first cruel thing about the morning that hurt because it was kind.
Taylor had remembered the rabbit.
He had packed the reading folder.
He had filled Lily’s water bottle.
People were easier to hate when they failed at everything.
Taylor never had.
He made pancakes shaped like animals.
He knew which toothpaste Lily hated.
He could braid hair badly but enthusiastically.
He once drove forty minutes back to a restaurant because Lily had left Marshmallow under the table.
None of that erased the freezer.
None of it fit beside the freezer either.
Rachel was still waiting on the phone.
When I returned to her, she said, “Police gone?”
“Yes.”
“Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Rachel.”
“I’m here.”
“He brought her backpack.”
Silence.
“So?”
“He packed it.”
“Sarah.”
“He remembered her rabbit.”
Rachel sighed.
“People who fail their children are not required to be monsters every minute.”
I sat at the kitchen table.
“I know.”
“No, you know that intellectually.”
“That’s still knowing.”
“Not today.”
I looked at Lily.
She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, whispering something into Marshmallow’s ear.
“What if he really believes this was discipline?”
“Then that belief may become part of the problem.”
“What if Evelyn taught him this was normal?”
Rachel paused.
“Did she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then don’t build defenses for him.”
“I’m not.”
“You are trying to explain him because explanation feels more manageable than betrayal.”
I hated when lawyers sounded like therapists.
“I need you to be my attorney, not diagnose me.”
“Fine.”
Her tone sharpened.
“Your legal problem is that Taylor filed first this morning.”
“So?”
“So first filings frame urgency.”
“Can he win?”
“He can be heard.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
I rubbed my eyes.
“What time is the hearing?”
“I’m pushing for this afternoon.”
“That fast?”
“There is a child abuse allegation, hospitalization, and competing emergency custody claims.”
“Will Lily have to be there?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“She does need the forensic interview this morning.”
My stomach tightened.
“What time?”
“Ten.”
I checked the clock.
7:36.
“We’ll be there.”
“Bring nothing except what they request.”
“I understand.”
“And Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“Stop reading Taylor’s messages.”
“I need the record.”
“Preserve them.”
“I am.”
“But stop rereading them.”
I looked at the screen.
His last message was still open.
You’re going to regret it when the truth comes out.
“What if there is something I missed?”
“That is what investigators are for.”
“They missed my daughter for eleven incidents.”
Rachel went silent.
The sentence was unfair.
I knew it immediately.
Police had not known.
Child protection had not known.
Nobody could investigate a secret that never reached them.
Still, I could not take the words back.
Rachel said quietly, “You missed it too.”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.”
“I’m not saying that to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But if you go into court acting like you are the only competent adult in this story, Taylor’s attorney will tear you apart.”
I looked down.
The table had a small burn mark near one corner from a pan I had set there the week I moved in.
“I wasn’t competent.”
“You were uninformed.”
“I was her mother.”
“Those can both be true.”
I ended the call ten minutes later with instructions to meet Rachel at the courthouse after Lily’s interview.
For breakfast, I made toast and scrambled eggs.
The refrigerator remained unplugged.
Lily noticed.
“Why is it quiet?”
“It annoyed me.”
“You unplugged it because it annoyed you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
“Our milk is going to die.”
I plugged it back in.
The motor started humming.
My shoulders tightened.
Lily watched me.
Then she put down her fork.
“You don’t like it now.”
“I don’t like what?”
“The refrigerator.”
“I’m fine.”
“You said lying is bad.”
Children were merciless.
“I don’t like the sound.”
“Because of the freezer?”
I sat across from her.
“Yes.”
She nodded as though that made perfect sense.
Then she ate another bite of egg.
“I don’t like garages.”
“We don’t have one.”
“I know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Can we never have one?”
I wanted to say yes.
Instead, I buttered another piece of toast.
“We don’t have to decide about garages today.”
She seemed satisfied with that.
At nine fifteen, we left for the child advocacy center.
Lily carried Marshmallow under one arm.
The center was in a converted office building with bright murals painted along the hallway.
I disliked the murals immediately.
They tried too hard.
Lily liked the painted fox wearing glasses.
A receptionist gave her a sticker.
She put it on Marshmallow’s forehead.
Mara was waiting with a woman named Denise who explained that she would conduct the interview alone with Lily while the investigators observed from another room.
“Can Mommy come?”
Lily asked.
Denise shook her head.
“Not into the interview room.”
Lily grabbed my hand.
“No.”
I crouched beside her.
“You don’t have to be brave for me.”
“I’m not going.”
“Okay.”
Everyone waited.
Nobody corrected me.
After a minute, Lily whispered, “Do I have to?”
May you like
Denise answered.
“We would really like to talk with you.”
