Chương 4
Emily reached for his sleeve.
He stayed where he was.
O’Connell asked, “Were you still legally married to another person when you married Daniel?”
Laura’s face changed.
“That is not as simple as it sounds.”
Daniel stared at her.
O’Connell said, “It’s actually a yes-or-no question. The consequences might be complicated. The answer isn’t.”
Laura pressed both hands against her knees.
“Yes.”
Daniel laughed once through his nose.
Emily whispered, “Jesus.”
Laura said, “I believed he was never going to find me.”
Daniel stepped away from his daughter.
“You married me while you were married.”
“I was trying to survive.”
“You don’t get to put those two sentences next to each other like that fixes anything.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Did you love him?”
Laura looked at him.
“What?”
“Your husband.”
She hesitated.
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“Okay.”
“No. That’s not what the pause meant.”
“I don’t care what it meant.”
“You asked.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
Emily suddenly stood.
Both parents looked at her.
She pointed at the Polaroid.
“Is he in the picture?”
Laura went still.
Emily’s voice grew smaller.
“Is your husband the man in the picture?”
Laura looked at the photograph but did not answer.
Emily swallowed.
“Is he my father?”
“I can’t answer that here.”
Emily stared at her.
The disappointment on her face was quieter than anger.
“That means you can.”
Laura looked away.
Emily sat again.
A vending machine compressor clicked on behind her, strangely loud in the silence.
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“Eighteen years.”
Laura whispered, “I know.”
“No, stop saying that.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Then say something true.”
Her eyes flashed.
“I loved you.”
Daniel looked almost offended.
“Don’t.”
“That’s true.”
“You don’t get to use that as a shield.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what is it?”
“The only thing I can give you right now.”
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then turned away.
Outside, a plow backed beneath the lights, its warning alarm beeping steadily. One of the resort guests behind the glass had begun arguing with a security guard about being delayed. The world, indifferent and irritating, was continuing.
Luis came over with four paper cups of water.
Nobody wanted one.
He left them anyway.
Emily picked hers up eventually.
The cup made a small cracking sound in her grip.
O’Connell’s radio buzzed.
He stood and moved a few feet away before answering.
Daniel watched him.
“Can they arrest her?”
Laura looked at him.
He did not return the look.
O’Connell finished speaking and came back.
“I’m not going to speculate.”
“That means maybe.”
“It means I’m waiting for people who know more about the old case than I do.”
“How old?”
O’Connell glanced at the document.
“The original missing-person report is from a little over eighteen years ago.”
Daniel froze.
Emily’s eyes lifted.
“But dispatch said the daughter was six months old,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I’m eighteen.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stared at Laura.
“When did we meet?”
Laura whispered, “You know when.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“The summer before Emily was born.”
“And when did we get married?”
“Eight weeks after.”
O’Connell looked at him.
Daniel shook his head.
“She told me she was pregnant.”
Emily’s face changed.
Daniel saw it and immediately turned toward her.
“No. No, Em, I’m not saying—”
“You thought I was yours.”
His mouth closed.
Laura looked down.
Emily stood so quickly her chair scraped backward.
“You told him I was his?”
Laura said, “Emily—”
“You told him.”
“I needed—”
“You needed what?”
“I needed us to be safe.”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“So you used him.”
Daniel looked at Laura.
She winced.
“No.”
Emily pointed at him.
“You married him because you needed a new name and someone to make us look normal.”
“That is not what happened.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
Laura had no answer.
Emily’s voice shook.
“I don’t know anything now.”
Daniel stepped toward her.
She moved back.
It stopped him more effectively than a shout.
“Em.”
“Don’t.”
“All right.”
“I need a minute.”
“Okay.”
She walked to the far end of the lodge and stood beside a darkened display case filled with resort-branded gloves and ski goggles.
Daniel watched her go.
Then he said to Laura, “You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“Before the wedding.”
“Yes.”
“Before I signed her birth certificate.”
Laura’s face tightened.
O’Connell looked away.
Daniel noticed.
“What?”
The trooper remained silent.
“What?”
O’Connell said carefully, “I would not make assumptions about the legal effect of anything tonight.”
Daniel stared at him.
“I’m not talking about the law.”
O’Connell nodded.
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“I’m talking about standing in a hospital holding a baby who had my last name because I thought she was mine.”
Laura stood.
“You were her father.”
He turned on her.
“Was I?”
“Yes.”
“Biologically.”
Laura’s silence answered him.
His eyes filled, but he did not cry.
He nodded once.
Then again.
“Right.”
“Daniel.”
“Right.”
“She needed you.”
“Oh, that makes it better.”
“I needed you too.”
“That makes it worse.”
Laura absorbed that.
For the first time since the checkpoint, her composure fractured. Her mouth pulled tight and she turned away.
Daniel saw the reaction and hated that it satisfied him.
That ugly satisfaction lasted only a second.
Then shame replaced it.
He sat down heavily.
Across the room, Emily was reading the handwritten message on the back of the Polaroid again.
Never let him find our daughter.
The handwriting was Laura’s.
Emily knew because her mother still made the same peculiar capital N, with the first stroke leaning too far left.
Her whole childhood contained Laura’s handwriting.
Lunch notes.
Birthday cards.
Labels on leftovers.
Instructions taped to the washing machine during freshman year after Emily ruined a wool sweater.
CALL ME BEFORE YOU TOUCH THE DIAL.
Love, Mom.
Emily had kept that note because it made her laugh.
Now the same hand had written a warning about a man she had never heard of.
Laura approached slowly.
May you like
“Can I sit here?”
Emily did not answer.
