Do Not Become Alarmed(69)

“Yes.”

“And will he ask for a lawyer?”

Maria considered. He knew to be wary around the police. But this was a stressful situation, and Oscar would be frightened. He might not remember to ask. “Perhaps.”

The lawyer sighed. “And you believe George Herrera has left the country.”

“I do.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone he was leaving?”

“I did.”

“But before, when they could have stopped him at the airport.”

“I was in shock,” Maria said. “I had seen a woman murdered. I had seen her body. All I could think of was finding my son.”

The lawyer nodded and made a note. “You weren’t thinking clearly. You were panicked about your son. He’s your only child?”

“I had a daughter.”

“Had?”

“She’s dead.”

“How?” the lawyer asked.

Maria could not bear these questions. “Drugs,” she said. “An overdose.”

The lawyer sighed. “If you get charged, they’ll go after that.”

“Why?”

“Character.”

Maria drew herself up. “What happened to my daughter had nothing to do with my character.”

“That’s not what people will think. You worked for drug dealers, your daughter died of an overdose. A simple equation.”

“That isn’t true.” Though she did wonder, sometimes. Raúl had called Ofelia her “slut daughter” just this morning.

The lawyer was writing on her notepad. “We’ll see what happens, if they charge you. We’ll talk about it then.”

Maria was astonished at such matter-of-factness about the deepest wounds of her heart.

There was a knock at the door, and a young Caribbean officer came in. “They found the kid,” he said.

Maria leaped to her feet. “Where?”

“At a police station, not far.”

“Why at a police station?”

“He walked in.”

“And the children?”

“Some of them.”

“Not all?”

The young officer shrugged. “Don’t know.”

The lawyer slid her notepad into her briefcase. “I’m going there. No one questions Oscar until I arrive.”

“I’m going with you,” Maria said.

“Let me handle this.”

“Are you keeping me here?” Maria asked the cop.

He looked uncertain.

“Someone needs to take her home,” the lawyer said. “She’s not under arrest.”

The cop nodded. “I’ll get someone.”

“I want to see my son!” Maria said.

“I’ll call you,” the lawyer told her. “Right now you need to sleep, and be quiet.” She said it with a significant look.

The door closed behind them and Maria was alone. She slumped to the table, exhausted. She should have fought harder to go along. But Oscar was alive. That was enough for now.





49.



NORA SAT WITH her mother-in-law in the hospital’s little café, over coffee. Liv sometimes talked about what a cliché it was to feel oppressed by her own mother-in-law. Someday, she said, Sebastian would fall in love, and when that happened, the person he loved would feel oppressed by Liv, and she wouldn’t be able to catch a break. But Nora didn’t feel that way.

She loved Dianne, who was sixty-three, with a majestic bosom and an excellent poker face. She was a middle school principal, and Nora had spent her professional life working with middle school principals, trying to please them. She did not want to seem like a failure in Dianne’s eyes—in her marriage, in her parenting, in anything. And she did not want Raymond to seem like a failure. Dianne expected a lot of her son, and now Nora had to explain what he’d been doing in the hallway with his arms around Liv.

“It’s been really tough,” Nora said. “I think we’re all in need of comfort.”

“You and Raymond don’t comfort each other?”

“That’s been hard to do lately.”

“Why?”

It was impossible to explain. The guide, the disappearance, Liv’s blurted accusation, Raymond’s baffled hurt. And before that, the way things had cooled between them, incrementally, so she’d barely noticed until it was done. “It’s a long story,” Nora said.

“I have time,” Dianne said.

Nora felt restless and itchy. She wished she could crawl right out of her skin. “Can I tell you what I’m afraid of?” she asked.

Dianne nodded.

“I’m afraid I’ve taught my children to be too good,” Nora said. “I wanted to keep them safe. I taught them that they can’t play with plastic guns, ever. And they can’t lose their tempers. I wanted them not to draw attention to themselves. I wanted them to be small targets.”

Dianne was listening.

“My niece, Penny, her personality is to be a big target,” Nora said. “And Liv encourages it, because she’s a good feminist, mostly. And I know that people are going to hate that quality in Penny, because she’s a girl. She’s assertive and she wants things, and she doesn’t care about being polite, and it comes off bossy and greedy. I want to be a good feminist, and I hate it in Penny. But I also know she can get away with it, because she’s white.”