Chương 7
At ten-fifteen, the conductor announced they would remain stopped until at least dawn.
Daniel found Nora and asked whether another sleeping compartment was available.
“One,” she said. “Crew normally keeps it empty for contingencies.”
“Give it to Victoria.”
Nora paused.
“All right.”
“And charge me.”
She gave him a look that suggested the distinction was unnecessary.
“I’ll arrange it.”
Victoria was not in the lounge.
Daniel found her in the dining car.
The stain remained.
Staff had left everything exactly as requested.
The crystal glass still lay on its side.
The white cloth sat where Daniel had dropped it on the table, a dried dark-red bloom spreading through the center.
Victoria stood by the window.
Her reflection looked pale against the storm.
“You told them not to clean this,” Daniel said.
She did not turn.
“I didn’t want strangers coming in while we were eating.”
“Nora says you asked before dinner.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“You’ve been interviewing the staff.”
“I asked one question.”
“You always do this.”
Daniel leaned against a chair.
“What?”
“You collect facts until feelings become irrelevant.”
“I don’t think feelings are irrelevant.”
“You act like they’re evidence.”
He looked at the stain.
“Did you pour the juice?”
Victoria turned.
“How many times are you going to ask?”
“Until I stop needing to.”
“You won’t.”
“Maybe not.”
She hugged her arms around herself.
For the first time that night, she looked cold.
“Where is Sophie?”
“Asleep.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Victoria looked toward the door.
Daniel moved slightly without thinking.
She saw it.
Her face went blank.
“You think I would go hurt her.”
“I don’t know what you would do.”
“I have never touched her.”
Daniel stared.
Again, an answer to a question he had not asked.
Victoria’s eyes filled.
“I have never hit her. I have never grabbed her. I have never—”
“Stop.”
“You’re looking at me like I’m some monster.”
“I’m looking at you like I don’t know you.”
Her chin trembled once.
She turned away.
A year earlier, that movement would have ended his anger. Daniel hated watching people cry. It made him surrender ground he still believed was his.
Tonight he waited.
Victoria wiped beneath one eye, careful not to smudge her makeup.
“I tried,” she said.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know you tried.”
“I changed my whole life.”
Daniel said nothing.
“I sold my condo because you said Sophie needed the school district. I moved forty minutes farther from my office. I stopped traveling three weeks out of every month. I learned which cereal she eats. I learned how to braid hair. I learned that if you cut strawberries the wrong direction she claims they taste different.”
“They do.”
Victoria gave him a wet, incredulous laugh.
“See?”
He almost smiled.
Again the familiar person appeared and disappeared.
“I went to a therapist with you,” she said. “I read books. I listened when everyone told me not to try to replace Claire. Then everyone got offended when I wasn’t enough like Claire.”
“Who is everyone?”
“You.”
“That’s not true.”
“Your sister.”
Daniel did not answer.
Lauren had never liked Victoria.
Not because of Claire. Lauren disliked controlled people on principle because she was almost pathologically uncontrolled herself.
“My mother.”
“My mother thinks oat milk is suspicious.”
Victoria laughed despite herself.
Then her face collapsed for a moment.
“I had nowhere to win.”
Daniel looked at the carpet.
“This isn’t about winning.”
“It always is to a child.”
“No.”
“You’re naive.”
“And you’re talking about Sophie like she’s your opponent.”
Victoria flinched.
Daniel let the sentence remain between them.
Outside, lightning turned the windows white.
When darkness returned, Victoria looked smaller.
“She doesn’t want me there.”
“She’s five.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep forgetting.”
“She can still reject me.”
“Yes.”
“And I can still be hurt by it.”
“Yes.”
Victoria stared at him.
Daniel added, “You cannot make her responsible for fixing that.”
Her eyes dropped.
There.
Not agreement.
Recognition.
He saw it.
“What happened tonight?” he asked.
She sat down.
For a while she said nothing.
Daniel did not push.
The train heater clicked off.
Without it, the room cooled quickly.
Finally Victoria said, “She told me you weren’t going to marry me.”
Daniel’s eyebrows drew together.
“What?”
“She said you promised her.”
“I never promised that.”
“I know.”
“Did she say when?”
“This afternoon.”
Daniel remembered Sophie angry because Victoria had told her she could not bring a stuffed rabbit into the dining car.
“She was upset.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Victoria looked embarrassed.
“Because I didn’t want to.”
The honesty surprised him.
“She said you loved Mommy more.”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
“And?”
“And I said that wasn’t the point.”
“What was the point?”
“That Claire is dead.”
His hand fell.
Victoria immediately said, “I know. I know how that sounds.”
“How did you say it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You remember everything.”
“Not when I’m upset.”
“Sophie does.”
Victoria looked toward the glass.
“She said I was glad Claire died.”
Daniel felt anger rise so quickly he had to move.
He walked to the window.
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
He believed her.
Sophie could say vicious things.
She was a child, not an angel.
“What did you say?”
“I told her never to say that again.”
“Fair.”
“She said it again.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“That sounds like her.”
Victoria almost laughed.
“I told her to go to her room.”
“We’re on a train.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And she refused?”
“Yes.”
Daniel nodded.
That sounded like Sophie too.
“She said you told her she didn’t have to listen to me if you weren’t there.”
“I did not.”
“I know.”
Daniel turned.
“So she lied.”
“Yes.”
Victoria’s face changed.
There was no satisfaction in it.
Only exhaustion.
Daniel sat opposite her.
“Keep going.”
“She said I wasn’t her mother.”
“She’s right.”
“I know she’s right.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t have to keep saying it.”
“What happened next?”
May you like
Victoria looked at her hands.
“I asked her what she thought would happen if you married me.”
