Chương 2
Margaret said, “You need to leave.”
Rachel turned her head slowly.
“Call the police.”
Margaret’s eyebrows rose.
“If you think I’m dangerous,” Rachel said, “call them.”
Daniel stared at her.
Rachel wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Call them and explain why your son is holding a six-week-old baby whose mother attended her funeral.”
Nobody moved.
Rachel looked at the guests.
There were fourteen people in the room, maybe fifteen. She recognized most of them from the Hayes Foundation, Daniel’s company, Margaret’s social circle. She had attended dinners with some of them. One of the women by the windows had sent lilies after the funeral.
Rachel pointed toward the child, but her hand shook so badly that she lowered it again.
“That’s Evelyn.”
Daniel flinched at the name.
It was the first honest thing his body had done.
Rachel saw it.
So did Margaret.
“Rachel,” Margaret said, “this is not the place.”
“You’re right.”
Rachel took her phone from her purse.
Daniel’s voice sharpened. “What are you doing?”
“Calling the police.”
Margaret stepped forward. “Think very carefully.”
Rachel stopped.
For nine years, those words had worked.
Think very carefully before embarrassing Daniel.
Think very carefully before leaving the Christmas dinner.
Think very carefully before refusing the family doctor.
Think very carefully before telling a reporter that the foundation’s maternal health campaign had almost no mothers on its advisory board.
Rachel had spent nearly a decade thinking very carefully.
She dialed 911.
The dispatcher asked for the address.
Margaret turned away.
Daniel whispered something that sounded like a curse.
The baby opened her eyes.
Rachel forgot the dispatcher.
The child’s eyes were dark and unfocused. They moved past Daniel’s lapel, toward the chandelier, then toward the brighter shape of the windows. Her mouth opened slightly.
Rachel made a sound.
Not a sob.
Something smaller.
The dispatcher said, “Ma’am?”
Rachel pressed the phone harder against her ear.
“Yes. I’m here.”
“What is the emergency?”
Rachel watched her daughter blink.
“My husband told me our newborn died.” She swallowed. “I’m standing in a room with him now. He has her.”
The first police officer asked everyone to stop talking.
This was difficult because Margaret had already started explaining.
It was not an explanation so much as an arrangement of facts designed to remove danger from them.
Yes, Daniel was the child’s father. Yes, Rachel was his wife. Yes, Rachel had recently experienced a traumatic delivery. Yes, there had been confusion surrounding the infant’s medical condition. No, no one was restraining Rachel. No, Daniel had not threatened her. The child was safe. The family had attorneys. The matter was sensitive.
The officer, a woman named Patel, listened without reacting.
Her partner spoke quietly with Daniel near the windows.
Rachel sat on the edge of a velvet chair because her legs had begun trembling again. The ring remained on the table.
Nobody touched it.
The party had been a reception for the Hayes Foundation’s new pediatric grant program. Rachel learned that from a printed card beside a vase of pale roses. The irony was so crude she almost resented reality for it.
One by one the guests were asked to leave their names and contact information.
The middle-aged man with the champagne flute set his drink on a tray before speaking with the officer. He looked embarrassed, as though being sober suddenly seemed more appropriate.
One of the two women approached Rachel before leaving.
Her name was Celia Warren. Rachel knew her mostly as Margaret’s friend.
“I’m sorry,” Celia whispered.
Rachel looked at her.
Celia’s mouth worked for a second.
“I thought Daniel was helping someone.”
“Helping who?”
Celia glanced toward Margaret.
“I don’t know.”
That answer seemed to frighten her.
She left.
Officer Patel crouched in front of Rachel.
“Can you tell me your baby’s date of birth?”
Rachel did.
“Hospital?”
“St. Catherine Medical Center.”
“Were you given a death certificate?”
Rachel stared at her.
The question should have been easy.
“I don’t know.”
Patel waited.
“My husband handled the paperwork.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“I was medicated.”
“That’s okay. Just tell me what you remember.”
“I signed hospital forms before the delivery. Afterward…” Rachel closed her eyes. “I don’t know. There were forms. Margaret brought things. Daniel said insurance. Funeral arrangements. I signed something on a tablet.”
Patel wrote this down.
“Did you ever see the baby after delivery?”
“No.”
“Did you see remains?”
Rachel looked across the room.
Daniel had removed his suit jacket and draped it over a chair. The baby was awake now, moving one hand against the gray blanket.
“No.”
“Were you told what caused the death?”
“They said respiratory failure. Complications. She was early, but not very early. Thirty-six weeks.”
“Who told you?”
“Daniel.”
“Anyone from the hospital?”
Rachel opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
There had been a doctor.
Hadn’t there?
Dr. Kessler had come into her room the next morning. Rachel remembered his tie. Blue with tiny yellow shapes. She remembered that because she had wanted to grab it when he stood too far away from the bed.
He had said, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Had he said the baby died?
Rachel could not remember.
The distinction felt enormous now.
“He said he was sorry for my loss.”
Patel nodded. “Anything else?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s fine.”
Across the room Daniel said, “I want Rachel to see her.”
Margaret turned sharply.
Officer Patel stood.
Daniel looked at Rachel.
His face had changed since the guests left. He no longer looked composed. He looked older.
“I can hold her while you—”
Rachel stood too quickly.
“No.”
Everyone went still.
Rachel pressed a hand against the chair.
“I’m not taking her from you. I’m not doing anything that lets you say I was unstable.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
Margaret did.
“You are unstable.”
Patel’s head turned.
Daniel said, “Mom.”
Margaret ignored him. “Rachel has been under psychiatric care.”
Rachel looked at Officer Patel.
May you like
“I have a therapist.”
Margaret folded her arms.
