Chương 2
June stared at her.
The hurt arrived without drama. Her shoulders dropped.
“You knew.”
“I knew there were questions.”
“You said we were going to have dinner.”
“I know.”
“You said this trip was just dinner.”
“I know.”
“That’s lying.”
“Yes.”
Nora did not try to soften it.
June looked around at the adults in front of her as though seeing a trick performed badly.
Oliver was still sitting in cake.
His smugness had vanished. He had frosting in his hair. He looked ten now instead of the much older boy he tried to become whenever adults were watching.
Theo had moved all the way to the wall.
“Can somebody call my dad?” he asked quietly.
That broke the room.
People began speaking at once.
A passenger near the rear had her phone held upright, filming. Another man told her to put it down. Someone asked where the conductor was. A woman in a silver wrap complained that children should not have been running around the dining car in the first place, which caused her husband to tell her this had moved well beyond running.
Maya stepped between the nearest tables.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats.”
Nobody obeyed.
She tried again, louder. “Please. For everyone’s safety, remain where you are.”
The wheels hammered over a rail joint.
The train swayed.
A champagne flute rolled off the edge of the ruined table and shattered.
Oliver flinched.
June did not.
She watched Celeste close her fingers around the locket.
“Give it to me.”
Celeste glanced at Grant.
Grant said, “Celeste.”
“It belongs to the family.”
“It belonged to my mom,” June said.
Celeste’s jaw tightened.
Nora held out her hand. “Put it on the table.”
“Stay out of this.”
“You involved your ten-year-old.”
“I did not involve Oliver in anything.”
Oliver looked up.
“You gave it to me.”
Celeste turned toward him.
It was an ordinary mistake—the kind people made when they were frightened, forgetting children listened most carefully when adults wished they would not.
“I told you to hold it.”
“You said not to let June see it.”
The room quieted again.
Celeste’s face changed.
Oliver saw the change and went pale.
“I mean—”
“Don’t,” Nora said.
She did not look triumphant.
That unsettled June almost as much as everything else.
Nora looked tired.
Maya’s radio crackled. A man’s voice asked for her location.
She answered, “Dining car. We need the train manager and security immediately.”
Grant removed his overcoat. He draped it across an empty chair with maddening care.
June hated him for that.
A minute earlier she had loved the way her father folded things. He never threw jackets over furniture. He lined shoes up beside hotel beds. He straightened crooked frames in rooms that did not belong to him. When June was six, she had thought this meant he knew how to keep the world from becoming messy.
Now there was cake on the carpet, bloodless red marks on two women’s faces, broken glass, a locket from an empty grave, and Grant Mercer still placed his coat neatly across a chair.
June reached past Nora and snatched the locket from Celeste’s hand.
Celeste caught her wrist.
“Let go of me.”
“June.”
“Let go.”
Grant moved.
Nora moved faster.
“Take your hand off her.”
Celeste released June.
June stepped backward until the walnut wall pressed against her shoulders.
She closed both fists around the locket.
It was warm from Celeste’s hand.
That seemed wrong.
Her mother’s things were not supposed to be warm anymore.
The train manager arrived with a security officer two minutes later, though June would remember the interval as longer.
The manager was a narrow man named Daniel Cho who wore a midnight-blue suit and the expression of someone trained to make wealthy customers believe inconvenience was impossible. The security officer, Leah Benton, wore plain black clothing and an earpiece.
Daniel took in the cake, the broken glass, June’s cheek, Celeste’s cheek, Nora’s phone, and the number of passengers holding their own phones.
His expression changed exactly once.
“Everybody needs to stop talking.”
Celeste drew herself up. “Do you know who I am?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes, Mrs. Mercer.”
“Then get these people out.”
“No.”
Grant’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Daniel said, “There has been physical contact involving a child. There are multiple witnesses. Nobody leaves this carriage until we establish what happened and whether medical care is required.”
“My niece kicked a service cart into my son.”
“I did,” June said.
Daniel looked at her.
She still had one hand over the locket.
“I kicked it.”
“Were you injured?”
“My face hurts.”
“Anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else touch you?”
“Mrs. Mercer slapped me.”
Celeste closed her eyes briefly at the formality of her own last name coming from June.
“And Ms. Shaw slapped Mrs. Mercer,” June added.
Nora exhaled through her nose.
“Correct,” she said.
Daniel looked at her.
“You’re admitting that?”
“I’m not going to ask a nine-year-old to lie for me.”
June glanced at her.
Nora noticed but said nothing.
Leah Benton crouched a few feet from Oliver.
“Are you hurt?”
“My pants are full of cake.”
Theo made a sound that might have been a laugh and immediately covered his mouth.
Oliver looked at him.
For half a second, despite everything, June nearly laughed too.
Then Celeste said, “Oliver, enough.”
His face closed.
“I’m not hurt.”
Leah checked Theo and then began collecting names.
Grant asked June if she wanted ice.
“No.”
“Your cheek is swelling.”
“I know.”
“June—”
“Was Mom in the grave?”
Grant looked at Daniel.
Daniel, wisely, walked away.
Grant lowered himself into the chair opposite her instead of standing over her.
“No.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since before the funeral.”
June stared at him.
Nora said, “Grant, not here.”
“Where?” June asked. “Where would be better?”
May you like
Nobody answered.
The dining car smelled of buttercream, coffee, perfume, and the cold metallic air that entered each time a vestibule door opened. Somewhere farther forward, dishes were still being washed. A baby began crying in another carriage.
