Chapter 13
“Hi, Em. What happened?”
I watched his face as he listened.
His eyes moved toward me once, then away.
“Okay,” he said. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just want to understand.”
Another pause.
“Who told you to do that?”
The hand holding the phone tightened.
“Grandma?”
My heart lurched.
Marcus looked at me.
“Which Grandma, sweetheart?”
He listened again.
Then his expression changed.
“Your other grandma?”
My mother’s name had been Margaret.
She had been gone since Emily was two.
Our daughter had never called her Grandma in any meaningful sense. She had pictures of her, a few recorded birthday messages, and a small wooden jewelry box that had belonged to her. But memory was not something she carried. Not at eight.
Marcus ended the call after another minute.
“What did she say?” I asked.
“She said a woman came to the house this morning.”
My fingers tightened around the lunch bag.
“What woman?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Did she let her inside?”
“I don’t know. She said the woman was in the kitchen.”
The corridor seemed suddenly too bright.
“Emily is at school,” I said.
Marcus shook his head.
“She isn’t at school.”
“What?”
“She said she stayed home.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“She didn’t feel well.”
The fear that rose in me was sharp, but it did not become panic. Maybe because Emily’s voice had sounded clear. Maybe because the hospital was full of people who knew how to stay calm when the body wanted to run.
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“With Mrs. Alvarez.”
Our neighbor lived across the street and had watched Emily many times since kindergarten.
“She’s safe,” Marcus added quickly. “She told me Mrs. Alvarez came over after the woman left.”
“Who was the woman?”
“She said she didn’t know.”
I took the phone from him.
“Emily,” I said, “are you sure you’re with Mrs. Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
“Put her on the phone, please.”
A moment later, our neighbor’s familiar voice came through.
“Claire? I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“I stopped by because I saw a car outside your house.”
“What kind of car?”
“Gray sedan. I didn’t recognize it.”
“Was the woman still there?”
“No. I arrived about ten minutes ago. Emily was in the living room, and the back door was unlocked.”
My heart beat hard against my ribs.
“Is she hurt?”
“No. She’s sitting beside me. She’s frightened, but she’s safe.”