An Anonymous Girl(104)
My throat is so tight; it’s like the nightmare where you can’t make a single sound. I’m so dizzy I feel like I’m going to pass out.
“Jess? What is it?”
The fear in my mom’s voice finally releases my words.
“I wasn’t there when Becky fell. I left her alone in the house,” I choke out. “I locked her in the bedroom.”
There’s utter silence.
It feels as if I am being broken apart; as if my secret has kept me glued together all these years and now it’s shattering.
I wonder if they are picturing Becky’s limp body being loaded onto the ambulance stretcher, like I am.
“I’m sorry,” I say through sobs that wrack my body. “I shouldn’t—”
“Jessie,” my father says firmly. “No. It was my fault.”
My head jerks up in surprise. His words don’t make sense; he must have misunderstood me.
But he continues: “That window screen, it had been broken for months. I kept meaning to replace it. If I had, Becky wouldn’t have been able to unlock it.”
I collapse onto my bed, my head swimming. Everything has been turned upside down.
My father blamed himself, too?
“But I was supposed to watch her!” I cry out. You trusted me!”
“Oh, Jess,” my mother says. Her voice sounds oddly broken. “It was too much to leave you alone with Becky all summer. I should have found another way.”
I expected their anger, or worse. Never did I imagine my parents were carrying around as much pain and guilt as me.
My mom continues: “Honey, it wasn’t any one thing that caused Becky to get hurt. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a terrible accident.”
I listen to her gentle words wash over me. I wish more than anything I could be there to squeeze in between them, like I did when I was a little girl, so they could envelop me in a hug. I feel closer to my parents than I have in years.
And yet there’s an emptiness inside of me in the space that once held my secret.
I may have found my family only in time to lose them again.
“I should have told you sooner,” I say. My cheeks are damp, but my tears are coming more slowly now.
“I wish you had, Jessie girl,” my dad says.
Then I hear the low rumble of Leo’s growl. He’s staring at my door.
I’m on my feet again instantly, my senses on high alert. Even after I hear the familiar voices of the couple who live at the end of the hall, my posture remains rigid.
My mother is still talking about the need to forgive ourselves. I can picture my dad nodding and rubbing her back. There’s so much more to say to them. And yet no matter how desperately I want to, I can’t stay on the phone even a minute longer. Dr. Shields is expecting me soon, and I still don’t know how I’m going to protect myself.
I ease off the phone after telling them again that I love them.
“Can you give Becky a big hug from me?” I say. “I promise I’ll call you guys later.” I hesitate before I press Call, hoping it’s the truth.
After I hang up, I want to curl up under the covers and absorb everything that has just happened. So much of my life has been constructed around a fallacy; my own assumptions imprisoned me.
But I can’t dwell on any of that now.
Instead, I brew a cup of strong coffee and start to pace, forcing myself to focus. Maybe I should leave the city tonight. There must be a rental car place that’s open on Christmas; I could start driving to Florida.
Or I could stay and try to fight Dr. Shields.
Those are the only two choices I can see.
I try to think like Dr. Shields would: logically and methodically.
Step one: I need to see the recording, because how do I even know it exists? And if it does, I’m not sure I believe that I’m identifiable on it. I wore dark clothing, and I didn’t turn on any lights in the town house.
Still, it may not be safe to go to her house. I have no idea what she’s planning.
Step two: I need to put safeguards into effect. I actually have a few already, I realize. Noah will know the whole story when he reads my letter. And I’ve called the investigator; if I get cornered, I can show Dr. Shields the number on my cell phone to prove it. I can’t picture her being physically violent, but I want to be prepared just in case.
But most important, I’m finally holding some of Dr. Shields’s secrets.
Is that enough?
CHAPTER
SIXTY-SEVEN
Tuesday, December 25
You are precisely on time, Jessica.
Still, you are made to wait for a full ninety seconds after you press the town house buzzer.
When the door is opened, your appearance comes as a surprise, and not a welcome one.
By now you should be floundering, on the verge of a breakdown.
Instead, you stride into the town house looking more confident and appealing than ever.
You wear all black: Your coat hangs open to reveal a high-neck dress that hugs your curves, and leather boots that hit above your knee. They give you an extra three inches of height, so that we are eye to eye.
You take in my appearance as well: a pure white wool knit dress, with diamonds at my ears and neck.
Do you notice the symbolism? The colors we chose are yin and yang. They represent beginnings—including Christenings and weddings—and endings, such as funerals. Black and white also are opponents in a chess game. Fitting, given what will occur shortly.