Chương 3
He worked the hair free slowly, then eased the zipper down. His fingertips never touched her skin. The care in that restraint nearly undid her.
She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.
The crescent was visible in the mirror.
Mara had seen it thousands of times. It was part of her in the way a small scar on her knee was part of her, or the faint line beside her mouth that appeared when she smiled. She had never imagined it belonged to a history.
She pressed two fingers against it.
Nothing changed.
In the shower, hot water struck her shoulders until the ballroom became steam and sound. She washed gardenia perfume from her wrists. She washed powder from her face. She found a faint red line where Evelyn’s bracelet had scraped her arm, though Evelyn had not grabbed her there.
When she came out in a robe, Daniel had removed his bow tie. He sat at the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.
“There are reporters outside Harrowmere,” he said.
Mara stopped.
“How?”
“One of the guests posted a video.”
“The whole thing?”
“Most of it.”
She sat beside him. “Did it show the mark?”
“Not clearly.”
“Not clearly means yes.”
“It means people can see skin. They cannot identify a birthmark from that distance.”
“People identify aliens from blurry photographs.”
Despite himself, Daniel let out a breath that was almost a laugh.
Mara looked at the carpet. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For snapping at you in the car.”
“You were publicly assaulted.”
“Was I?”
His head lifted.
“She pulled off a shawl,” Mara said. “She didn’t hit me.”
“She put her hands on your clothing without consent.”
“I know what she did.”
“Then don’t minimize it because she looked sad afterward.”
Mara studied him. Daniel’s anger was clean when it began and complicated when it had nowhere to go. He wanted a problem he could confront directly. A contract. A lawsuit. A person who could be told, with precision, where a boundary stood.
This was a grieving woman with a theory about Mara’s body.
“Do you think she believes it?” Mara asked.
“Yes.”
The answer came too fast to be comforting.
Mara folded the edge of her robe over one knee. “My mother will see the video.”
“We should call her before she does.”
Mara looked toward her phone on the dresser.
Helen lived alone in the Lancaster house now. Since Peter’s death, she had become skilled at stretching small conversations into long ones. She called Mara to report that the pharmacy had changed the shape of her blood pressure pills, that a neighbor’s cat had learned to open screen doors, that the young couple at church had named their baby something “that sounded like a Scandinavian chair.”
Mara imagined telling her that a wealthy stranger claimed to be her mother.
“I can’t call her tonight.”
“She may hear from someone else.”
“She doesn’t use social media.”
“Her friends do.”
Mara stood and began taking pins from her hair. One fell, bounced once on the hardwood, and disappeared beneath the dresser.
Daniel knelt to retrieve it.
“Don’t,” she said.
He looked up.
“I don’t care about the pin.”
He remained crouched for a second, then stood.
Mara pulled out the remaining pins and placed them on the dresser one by one. Her hair loosened around her shoulders.
“Evelyn said her daughter disappeared twenty-four years ago,” she said. “I’m twenty-six.”
“She said the child was two.”
“I know.”
Daniel said nothing.
“My birth certificate says I was born in Reading.”
“Birth certificates can be checked.”
Mara turned. “You’ve already thought about checking.”
“I’ve thought about everything.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
“It isn’t supposed to be. It’s honest.”
His phone vibrated again.
This time he looked at the screen.
“Who?”
“My mother.”
“Answer.”
“Mara—”
“Answer her.”
He put the call on speaker.
Louise’s voice filled the bedroom. “Daniel? Thank God. Is Mara with you?”
“I’m here,” Mara said.
“Oh, sweetheart. I am mortified. I have told Evelyn that what she did was indefensible.”
“Where is she now?” Daniel asked.
“In her study with Graham. She refused to speak to the police.”
“You called the police?”
“I did not. One of the guests did.”
Mara sat on the edge of the bed.
Louise continued, “The officers said Mara can make a report if she wishes. Evelyn’s staff are trying to get everyone off the property. There are cameras at the gates.”
“Did Evelyn say anything else?” Mara asked.
A pause.
“Louise?”
“She asked me where you were born.”
Daniel’s expression sharpened. “What did you tell her?”
“That I did not know.”
“Did she ask about Mara before tonight?”
Another pause.
Mara looked at the phone.
Louise’s voice became careful. “At lunch last week, she asked whether Mara’s parents would be attending.”
“My father is dead,” Mara said.
“I told her that. I said your mother was unable to travel because of her knee.”
“Then what?”
“She asked how you and Daniel met. Ordinary things.”
“Did you show her a picture of me?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
Louise sighed. “The photograph from last Thanksgiving. You were standing in our kitchen.”
Mara pictured it. She had worn a green sweater with a wide neckline. The birthmark might have been visible.
“Did she react?”
“Not that I noticed.”
Daniel rubbed one hand across his mouth. “Mom, I need you to think carefully. Did Evelyn know about the mark before tonight?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why did she pull the shawl?”
“She said she saw something when Mara turned.”
“What?”
“The edge of the mark, I suppose.”
Mara heard movement on Louise’s end, then a door closing.
Louise lowered her voice. “There is something else. I don’t know whether it matters.”
Daniel and Mara waited.
“Evelyn asked Graham to obtain Mara’s background information two days ago.”
The room seemed to narrow.
May you like
“What information?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know. Graham told me only because he objected. He said Evelyn had become fixated after seeing the photograph.”
