Chương 10
“What?”
“She does not want you to make Nana disappear forever.”
Adrian watched Mila move a wooden child from the dollhouse kitchen to the upstairs bedroom.
“She asked never to go back.”
“She asked whether you were ever going back while she was still frightened.”
“What does she want now?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s a six-year-old answer.”
He sat back.
Dr. Shah continued, “She wants to know whether she can see Camille’s dog. She wants to know whether Nana will be angry if she does not hug her. She wants Camille to apologize without crying. She does not want anyone to say her mother would be sad with her.”
Adrian looked toward the observation window again.
“Did I ask leading questions?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Do not turn her uncertainty into your certainty.”
The words irritated him because they resembled Lydia’s email.
He looked at Dr. Shah.
“Did Camille contact you?”
“No.”
“Eleanor?”
“Her attorney requested a professional consultation.”
Adrian stood.
“What did you say?”
“No.”
He remained standing.
Dr. Shah waited.
“Sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“The face.”
“Sit down, Adrian.”
He did.
That evening, Mila ate chicken soup and removed every carrot before touching the noodles. Adrian had cut the carrots into stars, believing this would help. She arranged them in a row beside her bowl.
“Why don’t you eat them?” he asked.
“They’re decorations.”
“They’re food.”
“Then why are they stars?”
He had no answer.
His phone buzzed. A message from Eleanor.
I would like to see Mila in a neutral setting. No cameras, no staff, no discussion of the party. You may remain present.
Adrian read it twice.
A second message followed.
I am willing to meet at Dr. Shah’s office if she agrees.
This was not an apology.
It was more movement than he expected.
He showed the message to Mila after dinner.
“Nana wants to see you at Dr. Shah’s office,” he said.
Mila pressed a carrot star flat with her spoon.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
“Will she bring presents?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t want a present.”
“I can tell her not to.”
“What if she does?”
“We leave it there.”
“Will she hug me?”
“Only if you ask.”
Mila looked doubtful.
“Can you tell her?”
“Yes.”
“You talk loud when you tell people.”
“I can talk quietly.”
“You did at the party.”
The comment carried no accusation, which made it sharper.
“I was still scary,” he said.
“A little.”
He pulled out the chair beside her.
“Do you want to see her?”
Mila pushed the carrots into a small pile.
“I want to see Jasper.”
“Jasper is Camille’s dog.”
“I know.”
“This meeting would be with Nana.”
“Can Jasper come?”
“We can ask.”
“Camille too?”
“We can ask.”
“Not Nathan.”
“Why not Nathan?”
“He says big words to children.”
“What big words?”
“Architectural.”
Adrian laughed.
Mila smiled briefly, pleased with herself.
“Okay,” he said. “No Nathan.”
“And Mara.”
“You want Mara there?”
“She opens doors.”
The meeting was scheduled for the following Thursday.
Eleanor agreed to Mila’s conditions with one exception: Jasper could not enter Dr. Shah’s office because the building prohibited animals.
Camille suggested a private room at a small community art center where the foundation had no involvement. Dogs were permitted. Dr. Shah could attend. Mara would come if her work schedule allowed.
Adrian disliked the art center because Camille suggested it.
He agreed because Mila chose it from photographs.
In the days before the meeting, the public story changed again.
A guest who had attended the party posted a written account stating that Mila had “appeared reluctant” before Adrian arrived. The guest defended Eleanor’s intentions but criticized the recording. Another guest replied that the child had been crying. A third insisted there had been no tears until Adrian entered.
None of them had followed Mila into the garden.
Camille resigned from two foundation committees. The board announced an independent review of consent practices involving minors at public events. Eleanor remained chair.
The online attention faded when a professional athlete argued with a referee on live television.
Adrian’s business did not recover as quickly.
Three smaller jobs replaced part of Elm Street, but the profit margins were thin. He spent evenings pricing materials while Mila colored beside him. Once, she drew the Voss mansion without doors.
He did not ask what it meant.
On Thursday, Adrian dressed in the same olive field jacket he had worn to the party, then removed it and chose a black coat instead.
Mila noticed.
“You don’t like that jacket?”
“I like it.”
“Why not wear it?”
He looked at the jacket hanging by the door.
Because the video had made it a costume. Because he could still feel Mila’s fingers gripping the lapel. Because part of him wanted Eleanor to see it and remember.
He put it on.
The art center occupied a former elementary school with low ceilings and radiators that clicked loudly. Children’s paintings covered the hallways. Nothing matched. A papier-mâché whale hung above the reception desk with one fin longer than the other.
Mila liked it immediately.
Dr. Shah arrived first. Camille came next with Jasper, an old brown spaniel whose paws slid on the linoleum. Mara entered through a side door five minutes later, still wearing her charcoal uniform and black flats.
Eleanor arrived last.
She wore a tailored gray coat over a navy dress suit. Her pearls were smaller than the ones from the party. The silver brooch was absent.
She carried no gift.
Mila stood between Adrian and Dr. Shah with the rabbit pressed against her chest.
Eleanor stopped six feet away.
For the first time since Adrian had known her, she seemed uncertain about where to place her hands.
“Hello, Mila.”
Mila crouched to pet Jasper.
Eleanor’s eyes flicked toward Adrian, perhaps expecting him to instruct the child.
He said nothing.
Camille knelt beside the dog.
May you like
“Jasper missed you,” she said.
Mila scratched behind his ears. “He smells like corn chips.”
