The Perfect Child(93)

“She’s dead.”

My words splintered inside her. I saw it happening. Her hands clutched her shirt, pulling on it. She shook her head frantically, staggering backward into the wall like she’d been hit.

“No. No. No.” Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“I’m so sorry.” It was all I could say, over and over again.

“How?”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “She fell down the stairs. It was a terrible accident.”

“Down the stairs? How do you die falling down the stairs?” Her voice shook.

“Her neck snapped on the landing.”

Her face paled. She covered her mouth with her hand. I stood and stepped toward her cautiously. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that. Please stop saying that,” she cried.

“I don’t know what to say. What to do . . .” My voice trailed off. There were no words left. Nothing that could make this better. She sank to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. I slid down next to her.

“I don’t understand. What happened?”

“I told you. She fell.”

“But how? How did she fall down the stairs?”

I shrugged. “The police are at the house now.”

She snapped her head up, locking eyes with me. “Why are the police there? I thought it was an accident.”

“It was. It is.”

“Who found her?”

“I don’t know why any of this matters right now. It’s only going to upset you more.”

“It matters to me.” Her jaw was set with determination.

“Caleb.”

“That poor thing. What about Dylan? Where was Janie?” Her brain raced to connect the dots, the questions tumbling over each other. “Was Greg home?”

I put my hands up to stop her. “Hannah, no. Not now. I can’t. It won’t help things.”

“You’re hiding something. I can tell.” Her eyes narrowed. “I can see it in your eyes. What are you hiding?”

I shook my head.

She sprang up from the floor and shook her finger at me. “Yes, you are, Christopher. You’re lying to me about something. I can tell.”

I shook my head again. The truth would only make it worse. “You—”

She clenched her fists together at her sides, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Tell me what happened to Allison.” I took her hands in mine. She jerked away and moved to stand behind the table. “Tell. Me. Now.”

I struggled to gain control of my voice. “Janie overheard Allison telling Piper that she couldn’t stay there any longer. She was really angry, and they got into a fight after Allison got off the phone.” I paused, struggling to speak the words. “It looks like there was an altercation on the top of the stairs and Allison fell.”

Hannah let out a howl. She picked up a chair and threw it against the wall. “I should’ve killed her! I should’ve killed her!”

The orderly outside the door rushed into the room and pressed a button on the wall. She tried to grab Hannah, but Hannah shoved her away. The nurse flew back, hitting the wall behind her.

“She’s a monster! I should’ve killed her!” Her eyes were wide open—manic. Spit was flung from her mouth as she screamed. Her entire body shook.

Two huge men rushed into the room. She clawed at her neck, raking her hands against it like she wanted to tear off her skin. They each grabbed one arm to keep her from hurting herself. She writhed with incredible strength. Her grief and anger had turned her into a beast. It took both of them to wrestle her to the floor, pinning her arms behind her back. That was when she unleashed the most primal screams I’d ever heard. They echoed down the hallway as they carried her away.





CASE #5243

INTERVIEW:

PIPER GOLDSTEIN

“Were you there for the altercation after the funeral?” Ron asked.

I nodded. I had gone to Allison’s visitation to pay my obligatory respects even though I hated being in the house of someone who had just died. I had since my uncle had passed away when I was nine. I didn’t like the way the house filled with people aimlessly moving from room to room like there was anywhere to go or how everyone was afraid to talk loudly, so it sounded like a steady hum of insects. Allison’s house was no different that day.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Do social workers usually go to funerals for the relatives of their clients?”

Of course we didn’t. He knew that as well as I did, but the Bauers were like family. I ignored him and kept my attention focused on Ron.

“What was Greg like before the altercation?” Ron asked.

“He was a wreck,” I said.

I’d never seen a man cry like he had. There was something especially devastating about watching a man fall apart. He had sat at the dining room table with his head buried in his hands as his shoulders had shaken. His sobs had been deep, guttural. His family had surrounded him.

“And the Bauers? How were they?”

“They weren’t doing much better. Hannah had gotten a day pass from the hospital, but I’m not sure it was the best thing for her. She was so racked with grief she could barely stand.”

Christopher had found her a chair in the living room, and I had made a beeline for them. It was one of the few times I’d ever seen them without the kids. I’d helped check Janie into New Horizons yesterday, the residential treatment center that Dr. Chandler had gotten her into. The waiting list was one of the longest in the country since they were one of the few private facilities that treated children under eight, but Dr. Chandler had done her fellowship with the new director, so he’d found Janie a bed once Dr. Chandler had told him about her situation. I’d arranged for Cole to stay with Christopher’s mom.