Open House(29)
It was Josie who used to go to Priya’s office hours. She was completely obsessed with Priya, trying so hard to get Priya to like her.
We could walk the neighborhood like we used to, my dad replies.
I lean back, my puffy jacket swishing against the bricks. The fight my dad and I had feels so far away, like it can’t even coexist in this new world I’ve found myself in. It was the worst we’ve ever had. I saw him in the parking lot of Key Food talking to this pretty woman in a way that felt slightly strange: nothing happened, but they were standing too close to each other. So I went all out and told him I knew he was having an affair, and he looked at me like I’d slapped him, and then he accused me of going completely insane. I’d never seen him so angry, and later that night when I was at my parents’ house, I overheard my mom tell one of her friends that he was going off the deep end lately, which struck me as ironic. Maybe he’s the one I get my instability from. I didn’t tell my mom what I saw in the Key Food parking lot because I could have been wrong; it could have been nothing, and plus now I have bigger things to worry about. I have no idea what he’ll say when I tell him I’m pregnant—I’m sure he’ll be even angrier. But I have to tell him and my mom. Maybe tonight, just to get it over with.
I’ll text you later, I respond to my father, and then I sit there for a minute or so, feeling like I don’t even have the strength to stand. What if I just left? Isn’t there somewhere I could go for a little while? Isn’t that what girls who got pregnant used to do, especially Catholic ones?
The moon is full, emanating a yellow glow like it’s bursting at the seams. The wind has picked up, and I rub the back of my neck, feeling stiff like I’m coming down with something, thinking about what a nightmare this is going to be for my family.
My phone buzzes, and I ignore it for a few more moments. I let my eyes glaze over as I stare at the moon. When I look down, I see two texts, both from Brad.
Where are you?
I’m coming to find you.
TWENTY-TWO
Priya
We were here to see an open house,” Brad whispered into Priya’s ear as paramedics put Josie onto a stretcher and raced her out of the house. “Do you understand me? Josie invited us here, to see the house. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Priya? She might die, and if they believe we’re here under any other circumstances . . .”
Moments later the police showed up, swarming the kitchen, barking into radios—female, early thirties, assaulted, significant loss of blood, EMS responded to the scene. They made calls to other police personnel and to forensics; they put on plastic gloves that made snapping sounds against their fingers; and they barricaded the kitchen with yellow tape. A stocky officer asked Dean, Haley, Priya, and Brad if they were all right, and then asked if they would cooperate, please by sitting in chairs and not speaking. Priya was shivering and trying to catch her breath, but all she could do was picture Josie all those years ago knocking on the door to the art studio, her hair askew and her face flushed from the cold, asking obscure art questions that didn’t seem to have much to do with her own work.
“Someone should call Noah,” Haley was saying to everyone, but none of the police personnel seemed to hear her. “Hello?” Haley tried again. She scanned the cops, and then her gaze fell on Priya. Priya’s mind was working well enough to remember that Noah was Josie’s husband, but it wasn’t like she had his number.
“I don’t know him,” Priya said quickly, but her heart pounded as she realized her mistake: she should have pretended to know Noah. Though maybe Noah and Josie took on clients separately—maybe it was plausible she only would have met Josie. She didn’t dare look at Brad. Was this really happening? Was she really at a crime scene, trying to figure out how not to implicate herself and her husband?
A cop knocked into a vase on the kitchen counter, catching it just before it shattered into a thousand pieces. “Should I just call him?” Haley asked Priya, but she didn’t wait for Priya to answer before she started dialing. “Noah, this is Haley,” she said into the phone, and it was clear from the way she prattled on that she’d gotten his voice mail. Priya’s stomach dropped when she imagined Noah checking his messages. “There’s been an accident,” Haley said. “Someone hurt Josie, we just found her in the kitchen here at the open house on Carrington, and she was lying on the floor bleeding, and I believe they’re taking her to Memorial Hospital, so if you get this message, just go there, please, and hopefully we can meet you soon.”
Haley disconnected her call, and then a cop strode toward them. “I’d like to ask that you hand me your phones,” the officer said. “We’d like to keep them while you’re being questioned at the station.” Priya’s nerves flared, but she handed over her phone like everyone else, and then the cop asked them all to please stand up, and everyone obeyed except Dean, who couldn’t seem to stand from his chair. His face was white, and he looked like he was about to pass out. Brad was studying him carefully, and Priya realized she hadn’t seen her husband study anyone besides her in a very long time.
“The cars are here to take you to the station,” the detective said, his voice neither hard nor gentle, just matter-of-fact. “You’ll be driven separately, and interviewed there.” When Dean still didn’t get up, the officer asked, “Do you need some help?”