Chương 5
That was what made the station unbearable.
If Victoria had always been cruel, Nathan could have hated himself in a simple way.
She hadn’t.
She had been patient sometimes.
Funny sometimes.
Generous sometimes.
She had also trained him, slowly, to distrust his daughter’s discomfort.
The two realities existed together.
At three, Grace woke and asked for water.
Nathan helped her sit.
After drinking, she said, “Victoria hates Mom.”
Nathan’s hand paused on the bottle cap.
“Why do you say that?”
“She said dead people shouldn’t get rooms.”
Nathan looked at her.
“What rooms?”
“My mom shelf.”
Grace had a small shelf in her bedroom.
Three photographs.
Emily’s old hairbrush.
A ceramic bird.
Nathan had built it with Grace when she was five.
“Victoria said that?”
Grace nodded.
“When?”
“A lot.”
Nathan looked toward the dark window.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
The answer was soft.
Nathan looked back at her.
“No, you didn’t.”
Grace stared at him.
Then she said, “I told you she moved the bird.”
Nathan remembered.
He had been tying his shoes in the bedroom.
Grace had appeared in the doorway holding the ceramic bird.
Victoria had moved it while cleaning.
Nathan had told Grace it was not a big deal.
Grace had said Victoria moved everything.
Nathan had said, “She’s trying to help.”
The memory was small.
That made it worse.
He sat down.
“You did tell me.”
Grace drank more water.
Nathan said, “I didn’t listen.”
She looked at him, uncertain what adults expected children to say after apologies.
Finally she handed him the bottle.
“Can I go back to sleep?”
“Yes.”
The next morning, the hospital discharged Grace with instructions for follow-up care and replacement medication.
Nathan called a car.
He did not take her home.
He took her to Sarah’s house.
His sister opened the door wearing gray sweatpants and one slipper.
She hugged Grace carefully.
“You scared everybody.”
Grace whispered, “Sorry.”
Sarah pulled back.
“No. Absolutely not. We are not apologizing for allergic reactions in this house.”
Grace smiled faintly.
Emma’s dog came skidding through the hallway.
For the first time since the station, Grace looked like herself.
“Buddy.”
The dog nearly knocked her over.
Sarah caught his collar.
“Buddy has the emotional regulation of a shopping cart.”
Grace laughed.
Nathan almost did too.
The sound hurt.
Inside the kitchen, Sarah made toast.
Grace ate cautiously.
Nathan watched her check the label on the bread bag.
She had never done that in Sarah’s house before.
Sarah noticed.
Neither adult commented.
After breakfast, Grace went upstairs with Emma.
Nathan stayed in the kitchen.
Rain tapped the back windows.
Sarah poured coffee.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“You always get mad when I lie.”
He sat at the table.
Sarah remained standing.
“What are you going to do?”
“I need to go home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Nathan.”
“I need clothes. Grace’s school stuff. Her medication list.”
“You need to not get arrested.”
He looked up.
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“That’s not the only way people get arrested.”
“I need to know what’s in the house.”
Sarah leaned against the counter.
“You think she has Emily’s box.”
“Yes.”
“And you think that matters because a seven-year-old saw the word Emily on a phone.”
“Yes.”
Sarah rubbed her forehead.
“That is not evidence of anything.”
“I know.”
“So don’t invent the rest.”
Nathan stared at his coffee.
“I’m trying not to.”
Sarah sat across from him.
They stayed quiet for a while.
The kitchen clock ticked.
Somewhere upstairs, Grace and Emma argued about whether the dog was allowed on a bed.
Normal life persisted with almost offensive confidence.
Sarah said, “You know what I’m afraid of?”
Nathan looked at her.
“That you’re going to find one terrible thing and use it to explain everything.”
He frowned.
Sarah continued.
“Maybe Victoria did something unforgivable last night. It looks like she did. That doesn’t mean every weird moment in your marriage was secretly part of a master plan.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Nathan looked toward the stairs.
“I don’t know what I know.”
Sarah nodded once.
“That’s probably the safest place to start.”
Nathan returned to his house shortly before noon.
Victoria’s car was in the driveway.
He sat in his own car for almost a minute before getting out.
The house looked exactly as it had two days earlier.
A package sat near the front step.
One gutter needed cleaning.
The neighbor across the street had put up inflatable Thanksgiving decorations too early.
Nathan unlocked the door.
Victoria was waiting in the living room.
She had changed clothes.
Black sweater.
Jeans.
Bare feet.
Without the burgundy coat, she looked smaller.
Her eyes were swollen.
Nathan noticed and resented himself for noticing.
“Where is Grace?”
“With Sarah.”
Victoria nodded.
“Good.”
The word stopped him.
“Good?”
“She’s safe there.”
Nathan closed the door.
“You weren’t allowed to contact us?”
“No one told me that.”
“Station security told you not to follow us.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
He looked at her.
Victoria folded her arms.
“I know how this looks.”
Nathan almost smiled.
“How it looks?”
“I panicked.”
“You kicked her medication under a bench.”
“She had already started breathing better.”
“No.”
Victoria’s eyes moved.
“You weren’t there.”
“There were witnesses.”
“They saw five seconds.”
“So did I.”
Nathan put his keys on the table.
Victoria watched his hands.
“I thought she was performing.”
He stared at her.
“I thought she wanted attention.”
“She has a diagnosed life-threatening allergy.”
“I know that.”
“Then what part looked performative?”
Victoria’s voice rose.
“She has been lying for weeks.”
Nathan said nothing.
Victoria looked away.
“She went through my things. She read private messages. She hid my phone.”
“She said you accused her of stealing it.”
“She did steal it.”
“Where did she take it?”
“To her room.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Five minutes? An hour?”
Victoria’s mouth tightened.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because you keep changing words.”
“I am not doing this.”
May you like
“You called it stealing.”
“She took something that wasn’t hers.”
