Open House(50)

Priya pulled into the parking lot, the hospital looming tall against the cloudy night sky. She opened her car door and stepped into the cold, keeping her eyes on the pavement. Someone had plowed it, but a layer of ice had already formed, and she was careful not to fall. Streetlamps illuminated the slick black ground beneath her feet, and Priya didn’t look up until she was at the curb. When she did, she saw Noah standing next to the hospital entrance.

“Noah,” Priya said carefully. She took in his strong build and the way he’d stuffed his fists into his pockets like he was trying to punch his coat farther over his body. He was shivering, whether from the cold or trauma of the day Priya didn’t know. She studied his perfect bone structure: high cheekbones, wide jaw, and deep-set hazel eyes. Could this man have tried to kill his wife today?

The night air was freezing, and Priya wanted to race into the warmth of the hospital, but with the way Noah was standing there, more imposing than any guard, she knew she couldn’t.

“I know Josie asked you to come, but I can’t let you see her,” Noah finally said, breaking the silence. “You have to know that.”

Priya felt steady and anchored to the snowy sidewalk in a way that surprised her. “I have every right to visit her,” she said.

“Really? After what your husband did today?”

Something hot burned through Priya, something that felt an awful lot like rage. She’d never been comfortable with her own anger—it was far easier to stuff it down and deal with the resulting depression—but she felt it now, and she wondered if that meant there was still passion for her husband somewhere deep inside her. Or, more likely, was this all for Elliot, a burning desire to protect him from a father in prison?

“Brad didn’t hurt Josie today,” Priya said. “Josie was the one who invited him there. And I still don’t understand why.”

“Of course you don’t,” Noah said. And then he looked up to the sky like he needed to get his bearings. But his face was still furious when he returned it to Priya. “The cops found evidence in the gorge this week that makes Emma’s death seem suspicious,” he said, “and after Josie learned this, she arranged a meeting with you and Brad to tell you she was going to the police with what she knew about him and Emma sleeping together back at school, because for some reason, she feels a connection to you, or some messed-up version of loyalty to you for being there for her when Emma disappeared. Obviously her foolish idea for the meeting backfired, and your husband tried to shut her up permanently.”

Priya recoiled. “Is this really what you think happened?” she asked slowly, turning all of it over in her mind.

“I do,” he said, “and you’d be a fool not to.”

Was she a fool? Why was she swinging so wildly between faith and disbelief? If only Brad hadn’t broken her trust in other ways, maybe he’d be easier to defend.

“But what I can’t figure out,” Noah went on, “is if you were there when it happened. Did you see Brad attack Josie? Or, maybe you did it?”

Priya’s mouth dropped open. “No, of course not!” she said. “Dean and Haley saw me arrive. I was driving a car length ahead of them.”

“But maybe you circled back,” Noah said. “How should I know what happened? The point is that Brad was there when the rest of you showed up.”

Priya was shaking now. You believe your husband, don’t you, Priya? came a small voice inside her. Defend him. “And what about you, Noah? Had you been to the house, too, this morning?”

A red flush crept up the exposed skin on Noah’s neck. “I brought Josie my car because it handles the snow better, and I helped her set up. But I left before your husband arrived, and when I left, my wife was perfectly fine.”

My wife.

There was something in his voice that turned Priya’s stomach. Possession, ownership: the things about marriage she’d never been comfortable with. “Is that right?” she asked, her voice so dreamy it sounded out of place in the conversation. “But isn’t it always the husband?” she asked. She remembered what Brad had said during their conversation tonight, and how relieved he was when it wasn’t his baby. “Emma was pregnant, did you know Brad and I knew that?” she asked. “Maybe it was yours, for all we know.”

Noah’s features darkened, and she knew she had him. A rush of blood shot through her, and she felt practically elated at the turn of events. “The baby certainly wasn’t Brad’s,” she went on.

She stood there so entirely certain of herself, right up until the moment Noah asked, “Then why is there a pregnancy test with your husband’s DNA all over it?”

The edges of Priya’s vision went black, and she tried to focus, tried to blink away the darkness.

“Maybe he was there with Emma when she took the test,” Noah said slowly. “How supportive of him.”

“He wasn’t,” Priya spat, but she had no idea.

“Or maybe Emma had it with her for some reason in the woods,” Noah said, his gaze far away, like he was trying to picture it, to figure it all out. “That night Emma told me she was meeting someone on the trails, and maybe it was Brad, and maybe that’s when he handled the test. How else would his blood get on it? The cops thought the tiny spot of blood was Emma’s until they tested it, and imagine their surprise when they realized it was Brad’s.” Noah shook his head, staring hard at Priya. “Don’t you see it, Priya? Your husband handled a dead girl’s pregnancy test, a student he was sleeping with, no less, and then when my wife told him she was going to the cops with the evidence, he attacked her. And now he’s going to pay for both crimes, which is exactly what he deserves.”