Part 8
Mara entered.
The cream bench remained beneath the glass ceiling.
For one confused second, she saw herself still sitting there. She could feel Noah’s weight against her left arm, Elise’s breath near her collar, the ribbon tightening whenever she moved.
Rosa walked directly to the bench and pressed one hand into the cushion.
“Ugly,” she announced.
Mara blinked.
“The bench?”
“The whole room. It looks like a wedding cake.”
Deputy Brooks turned away, perhaps smiling.
The spell broke enough for Mara to breathe.
Her belongings filled one drawer and half a closet: pale blue uniforms, white shoes, toiletries, a paperback mystery she had stopped reading because the detective annoyed her, three silver hair clips, and a coffee mug printed with the words NIGHT SHIFT: BECAUSE BABIES HAVE NO RESPECT FOR BUSINESS HOURS.
Rosa wrapped the mug in a dress.
“You stole that from my house,” she said.
“You gave it to me.”
“I lent it indefinitely.”
While packing, Mara found a folded feeding chart behind the dresser.
It was not hers.
The handwriting belonged to Dana Holloway, the previous nurse. Dates from early March ran down the side. Beside several nighttime feedings was a small mark shaped like a narrow triangle.
Mara had seen the same symbol in older pages of the household health binder before those pages disappeared.
She showed Deputy Brooks.
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could it be shorthand?”
“Yes.”
“For medication?”
“Possibly.”
Mara photographed the chart before handing it over.
In the bottom drawer of the changing table, she found nothing unusual. In the medicine cabinet, everything was labeled and sealed. Celeste’s system had been cleaned so thoroughly that it became its own form of evidence.
As Mara zipped the suitcase, a baby cried somewhere down the hall.
Her hands stopped.
It was Elise. Mara knew the pitch at once.
Rosa looked toward the door.
“You do not have to go.”
“I know.”
The cry rose again, thin and tired.
Mara remained beside the closet.
Footsteps approached. Adrian appeared in the doorway carrying Elise against his chest. He wore a dark sweater and no shoes. His hair looked as though he had run his hands through it repeatedly.
He stopped when he saw Mara.
Elise did not.
“She’s been fed,” he said. “She’s dry. Her temperature is normal.”
Mara almost answered automatically. Check her left ear. She rubs it against the blanket when she has gas.
Instead she picked up her suitcase.
Adrian looked at Deputy Brooks, then at Rosa.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here.”
“You live here,” Rosa said. “It would be strange if you did not appear.”
Mara gave her mother a warning glance.
Elise cried harder.
Adrian shifted her to the other shoulder. His movement was slower now, but still uncertain.
“She does that when she’s overtired,” Mara said.
He nodded. “The nurse said the same.”
“Then lower the light.”
He crossed to the nearest lamp and switched it off. Half the room softened.
“Hold her sideways,” Mara said. “Not flat. Support her hip.”
Adrian adjusted Elise.
The baby’s cry broke into smaller sounds.
“Don’t bounce,” Mara told him. “Just breathe.”
He stood still.
Elise listened to his chest.
Within a minute, her fists loosened.
Adrian looked at Mara across the dim nursery.
“Thank you.”
She closed the suitcase.
“I found a chart behind the dresser. Deputy Brooks has it.”
His eyes moved toward the officer.
“It may be nothing,” Mara said.
“Nothing has been nothing so far.”
Deputy Brooks reminded him not to discuss evidence with witnesses.
Adrian apologized.
Rosa watched him with narrowed eyes.
Before Mara left, Adrian asked whether they could speak in the hall.
Deputy Brooks remained within sight.
“I reviewed the employment authorization,” Mara said before he began. “I’m resigning.”
He nodded, though disappointment crossed his face.
“I expected that.”
“You owe me eleven days of unused leave.”
“You’ll be paid for it.”
“I’m not asking for anything extra.”
“I know.”
“And I won’t sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“I haven’t asked you to.”
“Your lawyer will.”
“Lawrence no longer represents me.”
That surprised her.
“Why?”
“He advised me not to call the police.”
“When?”
“The night it happened. Celeste texted him from the library before she was taken to the station. He called me.”
Mara stared at him. “And you didn’t mention that before?”
“I gave the call records to investigators.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Adrian looked down the corridor, where family photographs stood in silver frames. In nearly every one, Celeste appeared near him: at graduations, charity galas, Leah’s wedding shower, the twins’ christening.
“I’m still learning the difference between providing evidence and telling the truth,” he said.
Mara gripped the suitcase handle.
“That sounds expensive.”
“It has been.”
She almost walked away.
Then Adrian said, “The hospital review after Leah died was handled by Lawrence.”
Mara turned.
“He represented the family during the internal investigation. Celeste gave him the records.”
“What records?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You think something was hidden.”
“I think I accepted conclusions I never read.”
Elise slept against him now, one hand open beneath his chin.
Mara looked at the child.
“Read them,” she said.
Outside, Rosa loaded the suitcase into the trunk of a borrowed car. She waited until they had passed the estate gates before speaking.
“He likes you.”
Mara stared through the windshield. “He feels guilty.”
“Men often confuse those things.”
“He just watched me calm his daughter.”
“He watched you refuse him.”
“That is not romance.”
“I did not say romance. I said he likes you. Do not make my observations more dramatic because you are uncomfortable.”
Mara leaned her head against the window.
The lake disappeared behind the trees.
“I don’t want him to like me.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because he has enough problems.”
Mara laughed, then covered her face with one hand.
Rosa drove in silence for a while.
“What will you do for work?” she asked.
“I have savings.”
“For how long?”
May you like
“Three months if I’m careful.”
“Two if you buy coffee outside.”
