A Mother Would Know (32)

Sweet and kind—that’s the boy I’ve always known. And there’s no way that boy hurt Molly...or anyone, for that matter.

He was only a child when he and Kendra fought. And, knowing her, she probably did instigate it.

I am still curious about this Blondie person, though. So I log back on to the computer, click into Facebook. After I type Hudson’s name in the search bar, multiple accounts come up. It’s easy to find his bearded face among the thumbnail photos. I go into it. In the past his account had been private, but today it’s public, so all of the posts and pictures are readily available. Maybe he won’t friend me, but whatever, I can still see all of his stuff. I’m practically giddy, my hands shaking as I scroll the page. I find pictures of him and his ex, who I now know is named Natalia. That had been one of my guesses, right? She’s pretty. Fresh-faced. Tanned skin. Black hair, not blond. So most likely not the Blondie person in his phone. Unless he’s being ironic? I peruse the photos. Hudson looks happy, and it makes me wonder what happened between them. I try to remember if he ever told me why they broke up. If he did, I don’t recall it.

Below one of the photos of them in a restaurant, surrounded by a few friends I don’t recognize, Natalia has commented, “Such a fun day!”

Smiling inwardly, I continue scrolling. There’s a grouping of photos posted by a guy named Chase Folley, and they appear to be from a party. Hudson has been tagged in a few. Natalia is beside him in all three. When I enlarge one of them, my stomach knots. Natalia’s expression is off. She looks uncomfortable. Hudson’s smile is tight, his face slightly red. His hand is clutching Natalia’s shoulder so tightly his knuckles are white. I swipe my fingertip over the screen to remove a smudge and then realize there isn’t one. The dark spot under Natalia’s eye is on the actual picture. A bruise?

I click on her name, and it routes me to her account, but it’s private. Disappointed, I head back to Hudson’s page, stare at the picture a little longer. Perhaps it’s not bruising. Maybe it’s a shadow. I click on the other photos, zooming in to one that has a good view of her face. It’s a bruise all right.

When Kendra was around six years old, she’d been trying to do a handstand in the middle of the family room near where I was seated, reading a magazine. She fell over, her heel launching itself into my face and giving me a black eye.

Accidents happen.

Natalia’s black eye doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s her expression that unnerves me.

The ringing of my phone causes my heart rate to spike. Exhaling, I pick it up.

“Kendra,” I answer hurriedly. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I had a test and a double shift, and Mason’s teething. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Did you hear about that girl? The one Theo works with?”

“Oh, my god, yes. He told me. Isn’t it awful?”

“So awful,” I agree. “And now they’re saying it’s a homicide.”

“I know. It’s so scary,” she says. “And so weird that we just saw her last Friday.”

A chill runs through me. I hug myself.

“Do you know if Hudson ever made his move? Or talked to her?”

Her question throws me. “No, but I mean, how would he have even been able to?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m sure he didn’t. I was just curious. He was clearly interested, and she did tell us where she lived.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I was just curious.” A pause. “Look, I gotta get going. Talk to you later, Mom.”

I’ve done it again. Upset her.

“Kendra?”

But she’s already hung up.

Facebook is still up on my computer. Curious, I type Molly’s name in the search bar. There’s a list of Molly Fosters, but her smiling face greets me at the top. Unfortunately, like Natalia’s, her account is private. I can only view her profile pictures. All but two are smiling selfies. One of them is of her and a group of girlfriends wearing bikinis, holding cocktails and sitting on a beach. The last one is of her and a guy. I sit forward. Does she have a boyfriend?

I look at the date. Almost a year ago.

I sink back into my seat. Probably not relevant, then.

And didn’t that neighbor of hers say she’d had guys over a lot? The picture wasn’t romantic. Two smiling faces in close proximity. No indication that it was a love interest. Could be a friend or a brother, even.

Shaking my head, I log out of Facebook. I have no idea what I’m hoping to accomplish, anyway. Reaching out, I pick up my water and take a sip. It feels good as it slides down my throat.

I close my laptop and stare out the front window. My online snooping has gotten me nowhere. I’m still as lost as I was when I started. The answers I’m looking for, clearly, aren’t on the computer. I stand, my hand alighting on the kitchen window.

“He was clearly interested, and she did tell us where she lived.”

Kendra’s words float through my mind, a not-so-subtle accusation. But she’s wrong. There’s no way Hudson was at Molly’s house.

Right?

“I saw her with some guy yesterday, though. Some young guy with a big beard.”