Chương 2
They were going back.
Vivienne looked toward the horizon.
“How long?”
“Until what?” Hayes asked.
“Shore.”
“Not your concern.”
A tremor passed through Vivienne’s fingers.
The torn photograph shook.
Lily stared at it.
The photograph showed Daniel younger, clean-shaven, crouched beside a woman with blonde hair, both of them bent over a bundled baby. Lily had seen another copy in the hallway outside her bedroom. In that one, her mother’s whole face was visible.
This copy had been torn directly through Amelia Hart’s smile.
Vivienne laid it on the white leather seat.
Daniel did not touch it.
Nora did.
She picked it up carefully by the corners and slid it into an empty linen envelope from the service station.
“What are you doing?” Vivienne asked.
“Preserving it.”
“For what?”
Nora looked at her.
“For whoever asks.”
Vivienne’s mouth hardened.
Daniel almost laughed.
It came from a bad place and died before it became a sound.
He crouched again beside Lily.
“We’re going inside.”
“You’re coming?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
Lily looked at Vivienne.
For eleven days she had called this woman Mom.
Not every time.
The first day she had refused.
The second day she had tried it once and run to her bedroom afterward.
On the fourth morning she had said Mom by accident over pancakes, and Daniel had turned away because his eyes filled so quickly he did not want either of them to see.
Vivienne had waited.
That patience had convinced him more than anything.
Now Lily looked at the same face and whispered, “What’s her name?”
Daniel’s answer came too slowly.
“Vivienne.”
The woman at the railing shut her eyes.
Lily pressed closer to Daniel.
“My mom was Amelia.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s not Amelia.”
“No.”
“You told me it was.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yes.”
Lily nodded once.
It was the nod of someone arranging facts in the wrong order because there was nowhere else to put them.
Then she walked inside holding her father’s wrist.
Nora followed.
Daniel did not look back.
The main salon smelled faintly of lemon polish, coffee, and the pasta Lily had refused at lunch because the sauce had green things in it. Half a glass of sparkling water still sat on the low table near the window. A deck of children’s playing cards lay scattered beside it.
That ordinary mess nearly broke him.
Lily climbed onto the white sofa and pulled her feet beneath her.
Nora brought a blanket even though no one asked.
“Can I get you anything?” she said.
Lily shook her head.
“Water?”
Another shake.
“Hot chocolate?”
Lily looked toward her.
“On a boat?”
“We possess technology.”
Lily almost smiled.
Almost.
Nora seemed to recognize the limit and did not push.
“I’ll be right outside.”
Daniel said, “Nora.”
She waited.
“Thank you.”
Her expression stayed professional.
“I saw her open the flare locker twenty minutes ago.”
Daniel stared at her.
“What?”
“She told me Captain Hayes asked her to check an inventory label. It didn’t sound right, so I called the bridge. Then I heard Lily upstairs.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
Nora’s face changed.
It was not defensive. It was worse.
“I should have.”
“No.” Daniel rubbed his mouth. “No, I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
He looked at the closed door.
Nora lowered her voice.
“She also asked me this afternoon whether the tender could be launched without bridge authorization.”
Daniel turned fully toward her.
“When?”
“After lunch.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said Lily might like a ride.”
Daniel sat down hard in the chair opposite his daughter.
Nora continued, “I told her no guest operates the tender without crew. She asked about emergency controls.”
He felt something cold unfold beneath his ribs.
Lily was watching him.
He forced his hands to open.
“Tell Captain Hayes.”
“I already did.”
Nora glanced at Lily.
“Harbor Patrol is being updated.”
Daniel nodded.
Nora hesitated, then stepped outside.
For a while, father and daughter listened to the ocean strike the hull.
The yacht moved smoothly, but the glasses in the service cabinet clicked softly whenever they changed angle against the swells.
Lily stared at Daniel’s watch.
“You were downstairs.”
“Yes.”
“With her?”
“Before.”
“What were you doing?”
Daniel could have lied.
That instinct came so quickly it embarrassed him.
He could say he had been calling the captain. Calling the police. Checking something important.
Instead he said, “I was trying to figure out how to get her off the boat without scaring you.”
Lily looked toward the door.
“She scared me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“You left.”
“I did.”
She picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
“Why?”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Because I made a bad decision.”
“Like when you forgot my lunchbox?”
“No.”
“Worse?”
“Yes.”
She considered that.
“How worse?”
He rubbed his palms against his trousers.
“Much worse.”
Lily’s eyes filled again, but she did not cry.
“You said you checked.”
Daniel nodded.
“Tell me how.”
So he did.
Not all at once.
Eleven days earlier, a woman had appeared outside his office in Newport Beach.
Daniel had been halfway through a meeting when his assistant called through the conference-room intercom and said there was someone in reception claiming to be his wife.
The room had gone completely silent.
One of his business partners had made a small involuntary noise, almost a cough.
Daniel had walked out thinking it was a cruel joke.
He saw Amelia’s face.
Not similar.
Not close.
Her face.
The same pale line beside the left eyebrow. The same narrow chin. The same way the mouth turned slightly downward when she was frightened.
The woman had looked at him and said, “Danny.”
Only Amelia called him that.
Not even Lily.
May you like
Daniel had reached for the reception desk because the floor seemed to move.
The woman knew the name of the motel in Santa Barbara where he and Amelia had spent their first weekend together because every expensive hotel had been booked for a film festival. She knew Amelia hated the smell of lavender detergent. She knew Daniel had proposed in their kitchen after burning salmon because the ring had arrived two days early and he could not wait.
