Chương 12
“That sounds very clean.”
“It isn’t.”
Megan leaned back.
“What happens if we go to trial?”
“We believe we have a strong case.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Alvarez took a breath.
“Vanessa will be attacked on credibility because she changed parts of her statement. The garage company’s error will become central. The defense may argue David believed he had summoned help. Experts may disagree over exactly when Noah became medically compromised. The app evidence will be challenged. Your own texts that morning will be introduced.”
Megan went still.
“My texts?”
“You asked David whether he had dropped Noah off.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t immediately call police.”
“I thought he was with him.”
“I know.”
“Are you saying they’ll blame me?”
“I’m saying his defense has indicated they may argue multiple adults failed to act because no one understood Noah was in danger.”
Megan’s face burned.
“He put him in the car.”
“Yes.”
“He locked the door.”
“Yes.”
“He left.”
“Yes.”
“He called the cruise line.”
“Yes.”
“I called because I thought my brother had my son.”
“I know.”
“But a jury gets to hear I didn’t call police.”
“Yes.”
Megan stood.
Alvarez did not stop her.
“I need air.”
The hallway outside was cold.
Megan walked to a vending machine.
She bought water.
The machine dropped two bottles.
She stared at them.
For several seconds she could not decide whether to take both.
Then she laughed at herself.
She carried both back.
Alvarez accepted one.
“Thanks.”
Megan sat.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“No, everybody says that.”
Alvarez unscrewed the bottle.
“Fair.”
Megan stared at the tabletop.
“If he pleads, does Vanessa still testify?”
“Probably not at sentencing unless requested.”
“So nobody hears what she did.”
“Her conduct isn’t the charge before us.”
“She knew something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“She wanted a vacation.”
“Yes.”
“And she goes home.”
“Her legal exposure is a separate question.”
Megan looked up.
“What do you think I should do?”
Alvarez’s expression remained careful.
“I can tell you risk. I can’t tell you what outcome will let you live with yourself.”
“That’s inconvenient.”
“Yes.”
Megan almost smiled.
She took the plea paperwork home.
For two days she did not read it.
She went to work.
Mrs. Timmons disputed another copay.
Dana bought everyone tacos.
A hygienist named Luis played eighties music too loudly in sterilization until someone threatened to hide the speaker.
At lunch, Megan ate outside on the curb behind the office.
A lizard ran across the concrete.
She watched it disappear under a shrub.
Her phone stayed in her pocket.
That evening her mother came over.
Megan showed her the plea.
Her mother read more slowly than she used to.
After ten minutes she took off her glasses.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
“You want a trial.”
“I think.”
“Why?”
“So he has to hear it.”
“He already knows.”
“No.”
Her mother looked at her.
“You think a courtroom will make David become the person who understands what he did.”
Megan’s eyes filled.
“I want him to say it.”
“He may never.”
“That can’t be enough.”
“It isn’t.”
“So what am I supposed to do with that?”
Her mother put the papers down.
“I don’t know.”
Megan became angry.
Her mother did not retreat.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know. I lost a grandson. You lost a son. David is my son. I love him, and sometimes I wish I didn’t. None of those things gives me an answer.”
Megan looked at her.
It was the first time her mother had said she still loved David.
The admission hurt.
It also relieved something Megan had not known she was forcing her mother to hide.
“You talk to him?”
Her mother looked down.
“Once.”
“When?”
“Christmas.”
Megan stood.
“You told me you didn’t.”
“I know.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he was sorry.”
“To you.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That you weren’t speaking to him.”
Megan paced toward the kitchen.
Her mother remained seated.
“I should’ve told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid you’d stop talking to me.”
Megan turned.
Her mother looked small in Noah’s old dining chair.
Not weak.
Older.
“I might have.”
“I know.”
Megan hated that she could understand.
She opened the refrigerator.
“What do you want to drink?”
Her mother blinked.
“Water.”
Megan brought two glasses.
They sat.
After a while her mother said, “He asked me if Noah was afraid of the dark.”
Megan’s throat closed.
“Why?”
“He said the garage was dark.”
Megan stared at the water.
“Noah wasn’t afraid of the dark.”
“I told him.”
“He hated being alone.”
“I told him that too.”
Megan pressed her lips together.
Her mother reached across the table.
This time Megan took her hand.
The next morning Megan called Alvarez.
“I’ll accept the plea if he gives a full factual statement in open court.”
Alvarez was quiet.
“I can ask.”
“Not a speech.”
“Okay.”
“No apology written by his lawyer.”
“Understood.”
“He has to answer questions about what he did.”
“That may be difficult to negotiate.”
“Then trial.”
Alvarez asked, “What questions?”
Megan had already written them.
When did you know Noah was still in the vehicle?
Why did you place him back inside after he got out?
Why did you leave the garage?
When did you understand the heat could hurt him?
Why did you not return after receiving the vehicle alert?
Why did you use Vanessa’s phone to call security?
Why did you not identify yourself?
Why did you remain on the ship after you believed Noah could still be inside?
And one more.
What did Noah say to you before you shut the door?
The defense agreed to most.
They resisted the last.
Megan refused the plea.
Two days later they agreed.
The courtroom was smaller than she imagined.
David wore a dark suit.
Megan had not seen him in eleven months.
May you like
His hair had more gray.
He looked at her once when she entered.
