Chương 6
Miriam explained that she would talk with him the next day in a special room. Natalie would wait nearby. Eli could say he did not know. He could say he did not remember. He could take breaks.
“Will Grandma watch?” he asked.
“No,” Miriam said.
“Aunt Ness?”
“No.”
He looked at Natalie.
“Will Mom be mad if I say the wrong thing?”
Natalie’s throat closed.
“There is no wrong thing,” she said.
Miriam watched her carefully, then redirected Eli toward the blue dog.
Afterward, she asked Natalie to step into the hall.
“Do not discuss the incident with him tonight.”
“I haven’t.”
“You may have without intending to. Children listen to phone calls, adult expressions, fragments in hallways.”
“I told him he isn’t in trouble.”
“That’s fine. Keep doing that.”
“What if he asks whether Vanessa locked him inside?”
“Tell him he can talk to me tomorrow.”
“That sounds like I believe she did.”
“You do believe she did.”
Natalie crossed her arms.
Miriam’s voice remained gentle. “Your job tonight is not to become neutral. It is to avoid giving him details that may become part of his memory.”
“He already thinks he did something wrong.”
“Then tell him the truth about that. He did not cause what happened.”
Natalie returned to the room.
Eli was staring at the parking structure. Cars moved through openings in the concrete, headlights appearing and disappearing.
“Do you remember our apartment with the loud heater?” he asked.
Natalie sat beside him. “You were two.”
“It banged.”
“It did.”
“Dad kicked it.”
“He did not kick it.”
“He wanted to.”
“That is true.”
Daniel had died when Eli was four. A delivery truck crossed the center line on a wet highway. There had been no mystery and no one to blame in a way that made grief useful. For months afterward, Evelyn had entered Natalie’s life like an occupying government—organizing meals, changing Eli’s preschool pickup list, telling people Natalie was not ready to make decisions.
Natalie had eventually changed the locks.
Evelyn called it betrayal.
“Dad fixed things,” Eli said.
“He tried.”
“Grandma says he was careless.”
Natalie looked at him.
“When did she say that?”
He shrugged.
“Eli.”
“You said no questions.”
She felt the correction like a hand against her chest.
“You’re right.”
He picked at tape on his wrist.
“Dad would get Moss.”
“We’ll get him back.”
“When?”
“When the police are finished keeping him safe.”
“They put him in a bag.”
“For now.”
“He can’t breathe.”
“He’s stuffed.”
“He still doesn’t like it.”
Natalie reached for his hand. “I know.”
At three in the morning, while Eli slept, Vanessa sent a message.
Please don’t let Mom know I’m contacting you.
Natalie stared at it.
Another appeared.
I need to explain but not over text.
Natalie took the phone into the hallway and called Rourke.
He answered on the fourth ring, voice thick with sleep but immediately alert when she said Vanessa’s name.
“Do not arrange to meet her alone,” he said.
“She’s my sister, not an assassin.”
“That isn’t the only danger in meeting someone alone.”
“She wants to explain.”
“She wants to control what you tell us.”
“Those can both be true.”
Rourke was silent.
Natalie said, “I’m going to respond.”
“Tell her you’re willing to speak with her at the station.”
“She won’t come.”
“Then tell her you can’t help.”
“What if she tells me something important?”
“What if she tells you something designed to make you doubt Eli before he’s interviewed?”
Natalie leaned against the wall.
A nurse walked past carrying a stack of folded blankets. Somewhere, a child cried once and was soothed.
“What do I write?” Natalie asked.
“Nothing tonight.”
“She’ll think I’m showing Mom.”
“Let her.”
“You don’t know my family.”
“No. But I know people usually become urgent when evidence begins arriving.”
Natalie looked through the small window in Eli’s door.
“I’ll wait until morning.”
“Good.”
She ended the call and typed no response.
Vanessa sent three more messages.
I never meant for him to get hurt.
Mom said he was fine.
Please, Nat.
The last message arrived at 3:17.
You know what she does when things go wrong.
Natalie forwarded all four to Rourke.
Then she went into the bathroom and was sick.
Miriam interviewed Eli the next morning.
Natalie waited in a room with Rourke and a box of tissues placed so prominently it felt like an accusation. The interview played on a monitor. Miriam sat at a small table across from Eli. Colored pencils lay between them, untouched.
She began with rules. If she said something wrong, he should correct her. If he did not know an answer, he should say so. She intentionally called the blue dog green. Eli corrected her.
Then she asked about Thursday.
Eli remembered pancakes for dinner because Grandma said syrup was easier than arguing. He remembered Vanessa arriving while Evelyn was on the phone. He remembered their voices in the kitchen.
“What were they talking about?” Miriam asked.
“Money.”
“How do you know?”
“Aunt Ness said, ‘It’s money.’”
“Did you see them?”
“I was on the stairs.”
“What happened next?”
“Grandma told me to go up.”
“Did you?”
“For a little.”
“What did you do upstairs?”
“Packed Moss’s cave.”
“What is Moss’s cave?”
“My pillowcase.”
“Then what happened?”
Eli rubbed his thumb across the edge of the table.
“I heard the metal box.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
Miriam waited.
“What did the metal box sound like?”
“Scraping.”
“Where was it?”
“Outside.”
“How did you know?”
“The back door.”
“Did you go outside?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
“Aunt Ness.”
“What was she doing?”
“She had the blue box.”
“What happened then?”
“She said go back.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Moss wanted to see.”
Natalie pressed a hand over her mouth.
On the screen, Eli looked toward the room’s closed door.
Miriam said, “What happened after Moss wanted to see?”
May you like
“Aunt Ness put us in the shed.”
“How did you get inside?”
