Chương 6
Julian looked at her wrist.
“I didn’t know.”
“That is the point.”
He crossed the kitchen and stopped near the window. Outside, Oliver placed bread on the step and backed away, trying to persuade a crow to trust him.
“I thought the house ran well,” Julian said.
“It ran quietly.”
He nodded.
His phone, switched on again after the investigator arrived, buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.
“The board wants me to issue a statement,” he said. “They’re worried donors will assume the foundation hid something.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Then tell the truth.”
“I don’t know the truth yet.”
“You know enough to stop calling it a medical matter.”
Julian faced her. “My attorneys say any statement could affect the investigation.”
“Your attorneys are protecting you.”
“That is their job.”
“Who is protecting the boys?”
His face hardened. “I am.”
“Since last night.”
He stepped closer, and for a moment Mara saw the man who had entered the hall pointing.
Then he stopped himself.
“Tell me what you think I should do,” he said.
It sounded like a challenge.
Mara answered anyway. “Say there was a serious incident involving the safety of your children. Say authorities are investigating. Ask people not to publish photographs of seven-year-olds. Do not name your wife. Do not name me. Do not lie.”
“What happens to the foundation?”
“I don’t know.”
“Four hundred employees depend on organizations we fund.”
“Then perhaps the board should learn to survive one honest sentence.”
Julian looked toward the boys.
“Your position makes honesty simple,” he said.
“My position has never made anything simple.”
He regretted the sentence before she answered. It showed in the slight movement of his mouth.
Mara picked up her phone from the counter. “I am going home.”
Oliver appeared at the back door.
“No.”
She looked at him.
He came inside, leaving Dr. Renner and Henry on the step. “You said after today.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not night yet.”
“It is nearly four.”
“That isn’t night.”
Mara crouched. “I need clothes. I need to speak to my sister. I need to know whether I still have an apartment after reporters discovered where I live.”
Julian turned sharply. “They found your address?”
“One posted the building.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She stood. “Because I am not a member of your family crisis team.”
He took out his phone. “I’ll have security—”
“No.”
“Mara.”
“No guards outside my sister’s home. No black cars. No one frightening her children.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I will take the train.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She looked at him until he heard himself.
Julian lowered the phone. “At least let the estate driver take you to the station.”
“No.”
Oliver grabbed the edge of her apron. She had not changed since the night before. The white fabric was wrinkled and marked with dust.
“When are you coming back?” he asked.
Mara did not know.
She looked at Julian, who had become still.
“Tomorrow morning,” she said. “For breakfast.”
Oliver studied her face, testing the promise.
“Before cereal?”
“Before cereal.”
He released her.
At her apartment in Yonkers, someone had taped a handwritten note beside the mailboxes.
NO PRESS IN BUILDING. TENANTS ONLY.
Her upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Paik, opened her door before Mara reached the second landing.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“I made noodles.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You can be not hungry upstairs.”
Mrs. Paik was seventy-three, four feet eleven, and unimpressed by wealth. She led Mara into an apartment crowded with orchids and ceramic cats. A news channel played silently on the television.
The photograph from Bellweather House filled the screen.
Mrs. Paik turned it off.
“They make you look like you stole the children,” she said.
“I know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Good. Two children would be noisy in this building.”
Mara laughed despite herself. The laugh broke in the middle, and she pressed her hand to her eyes.
Mrs. Paik placed noodles on the table and sat across from her without speaking.
Mara ate three bites. Then five. By the time she finished, the broth had cooled and her hands had stopped shaking.
Her sister, Lena, arrived at seven with her two daughters and enough anger for the entire family.
“You are not going back,” Lena said before removing her coat.
“I promised breakfast.”
“You promised a frightened child something while you hadn’t slept.”
“Yes.”
“That does not make it a legal contract.”
Mara hugged her nieces and sent them to look at Mrs. Paik’s orchids.
Lena lowered her voice. “The Bellweathers will bury you.”
“They have not tried.”
“Not yet.”
“Julian called the police.”
“Julian pointed at you in front of fifty phones.”
“He thought I had hurt his children.”
“And when he learns what his wife did, he will need someone else to blame for not seeing it.”
Mara sat on the arm of the sofa. “He already blames himself.”
“Rich men are very talented at blaming themselves privately and other people publicly.”
Mara could not argue with that.
Lena took out her phone. “A reporter called my office. Two called the girls’ school. Your landlord wants to know whether there will be demonstrations.”
“Demonstrations?”
“He watches too much cable news.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Decide what you’re doing.”
“I’m going back in the morning.”
“As an employee?”
“I don’t know.”
“As a witness?”
“I suppose.”
“As what, Mara?”
The question remained with her after Lena left.
At two in the morning, Mara woke on her own sofa to the sound of her phone ringing.
The number was blocked.
She answered without speaking.
For a moment, she heard only breathing.
Then Celeste said, “You took them from me.”
Mara sat up.
“How did you get this number?”
“You have been in my home for eighteen months.”
“You are not supposed to contact anyone involved in the investigation.”
“I’m not calling the boys.”
“You should not be calling me.”
May you like
“I need you to tell Julian the truth.”
Mara looked toward the window. A streetlight cast the fire escape’s shadow across the ceiling.
