Chương 13
“That doesn’t make her safe.”
“She is not going to feed Sophie anything.”
“That isn’t the only danger.”
Victor leaned forward.
“She is her grandmother.”
“And Sophie is not medicine.”
His face tightened.
“I’m not asking Sophie to cure her.”
“You’re asking Sophie to relieve her before treatment.”
“I’m asking for one visit.”
“Has Eleanor apologized?”
“She wrote.”
“She avoided every relevant fact.”
“She is sixty-nine years old and terrified.”
“So was Sophie.”
Victor stood and walked toward the window.
Cars moved below through an early darkness. He placed one hand against the frame.
“I told her she had to apologize directly,” he said.
Evelyn looked at his back.
“What did she say?”
“That she would not confess to something she didn’t do.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
“She removed the marker. She didn’t give Sophie the tart.”
“She helped create a room where the marker mattered less than the table.”
Victor turned.
“You want her to say she caused everything.”
“No. I want her to say what she did.”
“What if this is the last chance?”
“That question belongs to Sophie.”
“She’s eight.”
“Then protect her from having to carry your mother’s deadline.”
Victor’s face changed with something close to anger.
“You always get to be the protector.”
“No. I’m the one who stayed.”
The sentence struck harder than Evelyn intended.
Victor looked away.
Dr. Sato, who had remained silent, spoke for the first time.
“What are you asking Evelyn to risk?”
“My mother’s visit could upset Sophie.”
“That is the smallest version of the risk. Try again.”
Victor sat down.
He rubbed his hands together once.
“If Sophie says no, my mother may die believing her granddaughter hates her.”
“That is a risk to Eleanor,” Dr. Sato said. “What is the risk to Sophie?”
Victor stared at the floor.
“That she sees someone who still refuses to hear her.”
“And the risk to you?”
He breathed out.
“That I lose my mother without repairing this.”
There it was.
Not Sophie’s need.
His.
Evelyn felt anger rise, then soften into something less satisfying.
Victor was not asking because Eleanor deserved the visit. He was asking because he could not bear one more unfinished relationship.
“Tell Sophie the truth,” Evelyn said. “Not that Grandma is dying. Tell her Eleanor is sick, treatment may be difficult, and she has asked to see her. Tell her she can say no. Tell her she can change her mind. And do not ask for an answer in the same conversation.”
Victor looked at her.
“You would allow that?”
“I would allow information.”
“And if she says yes?”
“Then the visit is supervised. No food. No photographers. No foundation staff. No gifts. Eleanor apologizes before asking Sophie for anything.”
“She may refuse.”
“Then she refuses.”
Victor nodded slowly.
The next afternoon, he told Sophie.
She listened without interrupting.
“Is Grandma going to die?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Does she think she is?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why she wants me?”
Victor’s face folded for a second before he controlled it.
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
“She misses you.”
Sophie looked toward Evelyn, who sat across the room beside Dr. Sato.
“Do I have to decide now?”
“No.”
“Do I have to visit?”
“No.”
“Will she be mad if I don’t?”
“Probably.”
Dr. Sato’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Victor continued. “But that is not your job to fix.”
Sophie twisted the bracelet around her wrist.
“I want to write another letter.”
Eleanor responded by asking for a meeting.
Sophie’s letter had said:
I am sorry you are sick. I am not ready to visit. I need you to say my bracelet mattered more than the party. Dad said I don’t have to fix your feelings. I hope your medicine works.
Eleanor’s reply came through Victor.
She agreed to every condition.
The visit took place at Dr. Sato’s office two weeks later.
Eleanor arrived wearing a dark blue suit and a silk scarf over hair that had begun to thin. Without the silver gown, the pearls, and the ballroom, she seemed smaller. Not gentle. Smaller.
Sophie sat beside Evelyn.
Victor took the chair nearest the door.
Eleanor looked at the bracelet first.
Then at Sophie.
“You’ve grown.”
Sophie did not answer.
Eleanor placed her handbag on the floor.
“I received your letter.”
“I know.”
“I have thought carefully about what you asked.”
Sophie waited.
Eleanor’s mouth tightened at the silence. She was accustomed to people rescuing her from it.
No one did.
“The bracelet mattered,” she said. “More than the appearance of the tables.”
Sophie looked at Dr. Sato.
The therapist said, “You can respond to Mrs. Hale, or you can wait.”
Sophie turned back.
“Why did you remove the signs?”
“I thought the staff had sufficient information without them.”
“That’s not why.”
Eleanor’s gaze sharpened.
Victor shifted in his chair.
Sophie continued. “You said they looked bad.”
A long pause followed.
“Yes,” Eleanor said.
“Why did that matter?”
“Because the gala represented years of work.”
“So did I look bad?”
“No.”
“My bracelet did.”
Eleanor’s hand moved toward the scarf at her throat.
“I disliked the way the markers changed the tables.”
“More than you disliked me getting sick?”
“At the time, I did not believe removing them would put you in danger.”
“But it did.”
“Yes.”
The word barely carried.
Sophie leaned back against the sofa.
“Dad said sorry.”
Eleanor looked at Victor, startled.
“He said he was embarrassed and didn’t listen.”
Victor’s eyes remained on his daughter.
Sophie looked at Eleanor again.
“Are you sorry?”
Eleanor’s first answer seemed to rise into her face and stop there.
She was frightened. Sick. Proud. Surrounded by the people she had spent years arranging into obedient positions.
Evelyn saw the effort it took for her not to choose the familiar escape.
“I am sorry I treated your safety as something that could be hidden,” Eleanor said.
May you like
Sophie’s fingers stopped moving on the bracelet.
Eleanor continued, less steadily. “I am sorry I defended Victor before asking whether you were all right. And I am sorry I made you think my party mattered more than you.”
