Saving Meghan(97)

“Don’t,” Becky warned. “Don’t bring him into this.”

“Ever since Sammy died,” Sabrina continued, undeterred, “you’ve been struggling, understandably so. Look, I think Meghan did get sick. Okay? I think it happened, some strange, weird illness that came and went. But it triggered something inside you—a fear, out-of-control anxiety, I don’t know what. I think Carl didn’t give you what you needed, and I suspect you became desperately lonely. You never had Mom’s love, and you didn’t have Carl’s support, so what did you have? You had Meghan. She is your world, your whole world.”

“What’s your point?” Becky said, annoyed.

“My point is that when you suffer a terrible loss, as you have, and you have attachment issues like we both do, it can mess with your head. When Meghan first got sick, it all came flooding back. Then she got better, but you couldn’t see it. You were still afraid something bad would happen to her, like it did to Sammy. You needed reassurances that nothing would happen to Meghan that you weren’t getting. But you knew just where to get those reassurances because Cora taught you how to play the doctors. And when you started doing that, you filled some empty place inside you, that place Sammy used to occupy, that space Meghan’s mystery illness took over.”

“Fuck you and fuck your fucking two-bit psychoanalysis,” Becky snarled. “How dare you! You’re not here. You don’t know.”

“Goddamn you!” Sabrina yelled. “I lived it, too! I lived it, too, and I didn’t run away from her. I stayed. I stayed because somebody had to look after our screwed-up mother.”

“So that’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” Becky said curtly. “You’re angry that I left.”

“No, I’m angry that you never left,” Sabrina said with venom.

Becky’s throat tightened. “You … you have no business judging me like this. You never had children. You never got married. You never took those risks. You don’t know.”

“No, you’re right, I didn’t do any of that.” Sabrina sounded wistful. “And I regret it, or a part of me does. A part of me is jealous of what you have, that you’ve been willing to open yourself up to hurt, to loss, to pain, when I haven’t been that brave. So it’s not about judging you, Becky. It’s about loving you. It’s about seeing you hurt, and suffer, and me wanting to help end that pain.”

It was this rare display of her stoic sister’s vulnerability and honesty that forced Becky to lower her defenses.

“What should I do?” Becky asked.

“You need to take Meghan to White and turn yourself in,” Sabrina said.

“But then I’ll lose her,” Becky replied. “Carl will fight for custody. And he’ll win. Who is going to advocate for her health then? She’s sick, Sabrina. You have to believe me. There’s something wrong with Meghan.”

Sabrina fell silent. For a moment, Becky feared she’d ended the call.

“Then you just answered your own question, didn’t you? Get her to the doctor,” Sabrina said.





CHAPTER 47





ZACH


The four-door Toyota Camry was parked in the breakdown lane near the high-traffic entrance to Storrow Drive, directly across from the iconic Boston Sand & Gravel Company. The lights of Boston twinkled all around Zach like tiny stars cast down from the clear night sky. He checked the time. Ten o’clock. Becky should be arriving any moment now. But how would she get here? Was she coming by car? On foot? She did not say. Her only instructions to him had been where and when to meet.

Zach had been at work, pulling a late night as usual, when he’d received Becky’s call. At first, he thought it was another prank. He’d received about a dozen of them since his widely publicized press conference. A few of those calls were obviously men, but a couple could have been Becky. Zach had prepared for that possibility. He asked any caller he could not easily rule out a simple question: What was Meghan most afraid of? He heard all variety of answers—spiders, heights, clowns—but only one person said needles.

Becky.

She had given him thirty minutes from the time of her call to get to the meeting spot. He understood why. She was being careful, not wanting to allow the police enough time to set up an ambush. Clever. She had also picked the highway breakdown lane because it would allow her a quick escape if she were to spot any police. But there’d be nothing to spook her. No helicopters hovering overhead. No police cars or undercover types in the vicinity. There was no reason for Becky not to show.

Guilt ate away at Zach, but what choice did he have? The earring had changed everything. It was not enough evidence for the DA to bring Becky up on murder charges, but it had been enough for Zach to agree to cooperate with the police. Even so, he had refused to do anything until he got assurances from Singer and Nash that Meghan would be treated for mito. That was the Faustian bargain he’d struck. He suspected he was doing it for Will as much as for Meghan. He’d get proof she had the disease, and then provide treatment to slow the progression until, hopefully, a cure could be found. As for Becky—well, Zach had no idea what was in store for her. If she had something to do with Levine’s death, then she deserved punishment. But in terms of breaking Meghan out of White, while Zach did not exactly condone what she had done, he damn well respected it.