Chương 6
“And you responded by giving her food that could kill her?”
Victoria’s face went white.
“I did not.”
Nathan waited.
“I did not give her nuts.”
“What did you give her?”
“A cookie.”
“From where?”
Victoria looked toward the kitchen.
“Some café in the station.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t remember.”
Nathan took out his phone.
Victoria’s expression sharpened.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking the station directory.”
“This is insane.”
He opened the station map.
“There are four cafés in that concourse.”
“I wasn’t looking at the sign.”
“You used a card?”
She stared at him.
“Are you interrogating me?”
“Yes.”
Victoria laughed once.
No humor.
“You’ve decided already.”
“No.”
“Yes, you have.”
“If I had decided, I wouldn’t be asking questions.”
“You always do this.”
Nathan lowered the phone.
“Do what?”
“You become morally perfect when you’re scared.”
He looked at her.
Victoria’s eyes filled.
“You think because you speak quietly you’re not angry.”
“I’m extremely angry.”
“You think that makes you right.”
“No.”
“It always does.”
Nathan said nothing.
Victoria wiped beneath one eye.
“She has been trying to break us apart.”
“She’s seven.”
“She knows exactly how you react when Emily comes up.”
The name entered the room like smoke.
Nathan’s shoulders stiffened.
Victoria saw it.
“There.”
“What?”
“That.”
He waited.
“You disappear.”
“I’m standing right here.”
“You know what I mean.”
Nathan’s voice dropped.
“Where is Emily’s box?”
Victoria stopped moving.
For half a second.
That was enough.
Nathan asked again.
“Where is it?”
“What box?”
“The one you picked up from Sarah last year.”
Victoria looked toward the window.
“She told you.”
“Yes.”
Victoria rubbed her thumb along the side of her index finger.
A habit Nathan knew.
She did it when trying to decide how much truth to use.
“It’s in storage.”
“Where?”
“I rented a unit.”
“Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t deal with it.”
“You told Sarah I asked you to get it.”
“You did, basically.”
“No.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
“You said we needed space in the basement.”
“That is not asking you to remove Emily’s belongings.”
“I didn’t throw them away.”
“Where is the unit?”
She hesitated.
Nathan laughed softly.
“You took my dead wife’s things without asking, lied to my sister, and hid them in a storage unit.”
“I was trying to make room for our marriage.”
“By removing Grace’s mother?”
“No.”
“Then why did you tell Grace dead people shouldn’t get rooms?”
Victoria looked at him.
Something changed.
Not guilt.
Recognition.
Grace had talked.
Nathan saw it.
“What else have you said to her?”
“Children distort things.”
“What else?”
“I am not going to defend every sentence I’ve said in two years.”
“How about the important ones?”
Victoria turned away.
Nathan walked toward the stairs.
She followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting Grace’s things.”
“Nathan.”
He kept going.
“You cannot take her out of this house.”
He stopped halfway up.
“Watch me.”
Victoria stared at him.
He immediately regretted the line.
Too theatrical.
Too satisfying.
It sounded like the kind of sentence people said before making bad decisions.
He turned back.
“I’m taking enough for a few days. I’m speaking to a lawyer. I’m not discussing anything else until I understand what happened.”
Victoria’s face collapsed for an instant.
“You’re leaving me.”
“I’m protecting Grace.”
“From me.”
Nathan did not answer.
Victoria followed him into Grace’s bedroom.
The shelf was there.
Two photographs, not three.
The ceramic bird.
The hairbrush.
Nathan noticed the missing photo immediately.
“Where is it?”
Victoria looked at the shelf.
“What?”
“The picture.”
“I don’t know.”
“There were three.”
“Nathan, I don’t inventory her room.”
He opened the top drawer.
School shirts.
Pajamas.
Socks.
He packed mechanically.
Victoria stood in the doorway.
After several minutes she said, “You want to know what the message said?”
Nathan stopped.
“What message?”
“The one Grace read.”
He looked at her.
Victoria crossed her arms.
“It wasn’t what she thinks.”
“What was it?”
“My mother found the storage receipt.”
Nathan waited.
“She knew whose things were in the unit.”
“And?”
“She told me I should have told you before the wedding how hard it was for me.”
“How hard what was?”
Victoria stared at the floor.
“Emily.”
Nathan felt anger rise again.
“You never met Emily.”
“No.”
“So what was hard?”
Victoria looked at him.
“You were still married to her.”
“She was dead.”
“I know.”
The cruelty of the sentence stunned them both.
Victoria shut her eyes.
“I know how that sounds.”
“How should it sound?”
“She was everywhere.”
Nathan looked around Grace’s room.
“There were photographs.”
“There was more than that.”
“What?”
“You compared things.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“When?”
“Without saying her name.”
Nathan waited.
Victoria’s voice became quieter.
“She liked camping, so when I said I hated camping, you looked disappointed. She made pancakes from scratch, so the first time I used a mix you said, ‘Emily used to—’ and then stopped. Grace would ask what her mother liked, and the answer became the right answer to everything.”
“That is not true.”
“It felt true.”
Nathan stared at her.
For the first time since the station, something in Victoria’s explanation reached a place he did not want touched.
Because he remembered the pancakes.
He had said it.
He had stopped halfway.
Victoria continued.
“I married a man with a dead wife and a little girl who adored her. I knew that. I thought I could handle it.”
Nathan’s voice was flat.
“So you took the box.”
“Yes.”
“And the picture?”
“I didn’t touch the picture.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
That stopped him.
Victoria looked exhausted.
“You shouldn’t believe me just because I say something anymore.”
Nathan said nothing.
She leaned against the doorframe.
“But I did not try to poison Grace.”
“Did you check the cookie?”
Victoria looked away.
Nathan waited.
“No.”
“Did Grace ask you to?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
Victoria’s eyes filled again.
“Twice.”
Nathan felt the room go still.
“What did you tell her?”
May you like
“That it was fine.”
“Did you know it was fine?”
