Chương 5
The living room contained a gray couch, two artificial plants, and a framed photograph of a mountain neither of them recognized. The kitchen drawers held exactly four forks.
Mia walked from room to room in Harper’s charcoal jacket, though the apartment was warm.
“Where are my markers?”
“At home.”
“My rabbit blanket?”
“At home.”
“My cereal bowl?”
“At home.”
“We can get them.”
“Now?”
Harper looked at the time. She had not slept in thirty-six hours. Her foot throbbed beneath the bandage.
“Yes,” she said.
They drove to a twenty-four-hour store instead.
Mia chose a box of markers, a yellow plastic bowl, strawberry cereal, and a blanket covered with blue whales. She rejected three stuffed animals before choosing a rabbit with one ear sewn slightly crooked.
At checkout, a woman in front of them glanced from Harper’s face to Mia’s wrists. Recognition followed.
Harper saw it happen.
The woman whispered something to her teenage son. He turned around.
Mia moved behind Harper.
The cashier scanned the rabbit and asked whether they wanted to donate a dollar to a children’s charity.
Harper said yes.
Then she felt ashamed of resenting the question.
Back at the apartment, Mia ate cereal at midnight and watched a cartoon with the volume low. Harper sat beside her and answered messages from her command, her attorney, the county victim advocate, and three friends who had learned more about her life from the news than she had ever told them.
A message from Margaret appeared at 12:17 a.m.
You are destroying this family over one mistake.
Harper read it twice.
Then another arrived.
Mia needs stability, not armed men and headlines.
A third followed.
Your father is ill from the stress.
Harper blocked the number.
Five minutes later, Daniel called.
She let it ring.
Mia looked away from the television. “Is that Grandpa?”
“Yes.”
“Are you mad at him?”
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
Harper placed the phone face down.
“I don’t know.”
Mia nodded, apparently relieved by the uncertainty.
Children, Harper was beginning to understand, could distrust perfect answers.
The next morning, Harper burned toast because the apartment’s toaster had only two settings: pale and smoke. Mia laughed for the first time since the beach.
It was a small laugh, surprised out of her.
Harper scraped the black surface over the sink.
“Army cooking,” she said.
“You said you work in offices.”
“Office soldiers still burn toast.”
Mia ate the middle and left the crusts arranged in a square around her plate.
At ten, Erin arrived for the first home visit. She wore jeans and carried no clipboard. She sat on the floor while Mia drew with the new markers.
Harper remained at the kitchen counter, close enough to hear but far enough not to direct.
Mia drew the beach parking lot with a black rectangle for the SUV, yellow lines for headlights, and a purple figure beneath a gray shape.
“What is the gray part?” Erin asked.
“Mommy’s coat.”
“And who is this?”
Mia pointed to the purple figure. “Me.”
There were three figures beside the SUV: one cream, one blue, one coral. The cream figure had a circle for a head and no face.
“Where is Victor?” Erin asked.
Mia chose a brown marker and drew a box beside the snack stand.
“He’s in there,” she said.
“Can he get out?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I locked him.”
Harper looked up.
Erin did not react. “In your picture, you locked him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you lock him at the beach?”
Mia’s marker stopped moving.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“He said I did.”
“Victor said you locked him?”
“No. He said I locked me.”
Erin waited.
Mia pressed the marker so hard the tip flattened.
“He said I went in the room and locked it, but the lock was outside. I told him that. Then he put the bracelets because I was talking ugly.”
“What did you say?”
“I said he was a liar.”
Erin smiled slightly. “Was that the ugly part?”
“He said ladies don’t call grown men liars.”
“What happened before you went into the room?”
Mia looked toward Harper.
Harper kept her hands flat on the counter.
“You can tell Erin,” she said.
“Grandma said I had to stay with Victor because they had a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?”
“They were going to see fireworks.”
“There were fireworks?”
“No. It was raining.”
“What did Grandma say exactly?”
Mia frowned, trying to retrieve the words.
“She said grown-up fireworks. Then Aunt Chloe said that was stupid.”
That sounded like Chloe.
Erin asked, “Did Victor do anything that scared you before the bracelets?”
“He was yelling on the phone. He said Mommy was a self-righteous—”
Mia stopped and looked at Harper.
“You won’t get in trouble for repeating it,” Harper said.
“A self-righteous bitch.”
The word sounded enormous in the child’s voice.
Harper’s nails pressed into the laminate counter.
Erin remained steady. “What happened next?”
“I took his phone when he put it down.”
“Why?”
“To call Mommy.”
“Did you know Mommy’s number?”
“No. Her picture was there.”
Harper and Erin exchanged a glance.
Victor had Harper’s contact saved with a photograph.
“What picture?” Erin asked.
“The one where Mommy has the green clothes and the hat.”
Harper had never sent Victor a photograph of herself in uniform.
“Did you call?”
“Yes. Then he grabbed me.”
“Where?”
Mia touched her upper arm.
“Did he put the bracelets on then?”
“After I bit him.”
“Where did you bite him?”
“His hand.”
“Then what happened?”
“He said he would teach me how soldiers learn.”
Harper left the counter.
She made it to the bathroom before she was sick.
When she came out, Erin had ended the conversation. Mia was coloring the rabbit’s crooked ear blue.
“I’m sorry,” Harper said.
“You do not apologize for a physical reaction,” Erin replied.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“You were right to give her space.”
“I mean the room.”
May you like
Erin lowered her voice. “She is safe now.”
“I mean three weeks ago. I should not have left her with my parents for the weekend.”
