The Mother's Promise(30)

Sonja turned away from the door. “What makes you say that?”

“Like I said, she doesn’t answer the door. If anyone talks to her she turns beet red and mutters something unintelligible. She doesn’t have any friends. She and her mother are rather strange. A pair of hermits, those two.”

Curious. And it didn’t sound at all like the girl was fit to be home alone.

“Do you know them very well?” Sonja asked.

“As well as you know anyone these days. In my day people used to keep their elderly neighbors company. Not anymore.”

Sonja turned back to the door, knocked again, harder this time. She listened at the door and thought she heard a faint shuffle. The old lady was right. Zoe was there.

“Zoe, it’s Sonja, your mother’s social worker. I’d like to talk to you. Can you come to the door, please?”

She put her ear to the door again, but this time there was silence. When she turned, the old lady was smiling a closed-mouth smile, eyebrows high in her hairline. “Told ya.”

Just as Sonja was trying to figure out what to do, the door handle turned and the door opened a few inches.

“Hello,” Sonja said, startled. “Are you … Zoe?”

“Yes,” she said finally, as though she herself wasn’t certain. Through the crack between the door and the frame, she looked younger than Sonja had expected. For some reason, perhaps the fact that she was happy to stay home alone, Sonja imagined her to be tall. Plucky. Full of adolescent attitude. But this girl was small. Timid-looking. She stared at the floor—not meeting her eyes at all.

Sonja fished a business card from her pocket. “My name’s Sonja. I’m your mom’s social worker.” As she spoke Sonja heard the note of confidence in her voice that was absent in all but her professional life. She was glad that at least in some areas of her life she was in control.

“My mom’s…?” Now the girl’s eyes did flicker to meet Sonja’s and the color drained out of her face. “Is my mom okay?”

“She’s still in surgery. But that’s not why I’m here.”

Her face registered relief, but was still hesitant. She was familiar-looking, Sonja realized. She had the bone structure of a doll, almond-shaped eyes and black hair. She also had a red mark on her right cheek. Sonja zeroed in on it.

“Do you mind if I come in and have a look around, Zoe, make sure everything is shipshape for your mother’s release?”

Sonja sounded reassuring, she realized. Calm. Nevertheless, for a moment it looked as if Zoe was going to refuse. She glanced at Sonja’s business card again, and then over her shoulder, back into the apartment. Finally she took a step back, widened the door.

She’d failed the first test. Letting a stranger inside.

“Looks like you’re getting a shiner there,” Sonja said, as casually as she could. She stepped into the apartment, gesturing to Zoe’s cheek.

“Oh.” Zoe’s gaze dropped. “I … I ran into a wall at school today.”

“Ice helps,” she said with a smile. “Is it okay if I…”

“Sure,” Zoe said. “Look around.”

Zoe remained in the hallway while Sonja did a loop of the apartment. It didn’t take long—there wasn’t a lot to see. The place was a little messy, but cozy. Photographs were dotted around in frames. It looked perfectly habitable.

“Why does my mother have a … social worker?” Zoe asked when Sonja returned to the living room.

The question stopped Sonja for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to Sonja that Alice wouldn’t explain all this.

“Well, the hospital put us in touch,” she explained. “It’s my job to take care of patients and make sure they have everything they need once they are released. For example, some people need help getting to and from appointments. Some people need to be put in touch with community services.”

Zoe blinked. “Does my mom need that kind of help?”

Sonja hesitated. “I’m not sure yet. We’ll know more after today.”

“Oh.”

Sonja didn’t understand her bafflement. “Are you all right, Zoe?”

She shrugged in a way that Sonja read as Yep. All good here. But Sonja was getting the feeling that that was far from the truth. In Sonja’s profession she’d learned to recognize “the feeling”—that elusive knot that appeared in your belly when something was not right. She had it now.

“So your mom tells me you’re staying here alone while she’s in the hospital?”

“Yeah.” Zoe’s voice was barely audible.

“Do you stay home alone much?”

“No.” Zoe hovered at the window, looking out. “Mom’s always here with me.”

“Always?” Sonja smiled, but it was wasted because Zoe was looking out the window. “She never goes out with friends or away for a weekend?”

“No.”

It was unsettling the way Zoe wouldn’t make eye contact. Her cheeks were deep red, as if she’d just sprinted up some steps, or perhaps humiliated herself in front of a group of peers. Sonja thought again about the things the old woman outside had said about her. The mark on her face. “Zoe, I have to ask you a few questions, is that all right? There’s nothing tricky.”