You Are Not Alone(22)

Shay keeps her eyes on her cup. The sisters wait, not daring to even sneak a look at each other.

“Amanda and I weren’t friends,” Shay whispers. “I actually didn’t know her at all.”

Neither sister reacts outwardly—a tremendous effort, given that both feel as if the wind has been knocked out of them. If this is true, how would Shay have known where Amanda lived? Why would she have felt compelled to put a flower on Amanda’s doorstep? And why would she appear so haunted by Amanda’s death?

Clearly Shay feels guilty; she’s almost cringing. Is this because she’s telling another lie?

The stakes feel higher than ever. The sisters may only have this chance to obtain answers. One false move and Shay could shut down, or flee.

“Oh?” Cassandra’s word is so gentle it could almost be a breath. “But you said you shared a vet?”

Shay’s tortured eyes rise to meet Cassandra’s. Then Jane’s.

Shay nods. “Yeah, um, I saw her there once or twice, but that’s not exactly why I came to the memorial.… The thing is, I was actually standing next to Amanda on the subway platform when she—when she died. I can’t get her out of my head.… I think about her all the time. I can’t stop wondering what would cause her to do something like that.…”

Shay leans back, slumping, looking as if she expects to be reprimanded.

Some of the tension drains out of Cassandra’s body. Jane releases her grip on the bench.

Shay was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The sisters’ minds begin to fire, assembling the pieces.

“Oh, Amanda suffered from depression off and on her whole life,” Jane says gently.

Shay nods.

“So how did you find out about the memorial service?” Cassandra reaches over and freshens up Shay’s mug of tea from the pot. Cassandra’s hand is trembling slightly from accumulated tension, so she quickly tucks it in her lap.

Shay doesn’t appear to have noticed; she’s still blinking back tears. “I went by her apartment to leave a flower, just as a tribute, and I saw the notice.…”

“But how did you know where she lived?” Jane interrupts.

Cassandra gently pats her sister’s hand: Slow down.

“There’s this detective who questioned me at the subway after … well, after everything. Anyway, the last time I spoke with her she told me Amanda’s name and I figured out her address from there.…”

At the mention of the detective, Jane sucks in a quick breath. Shay’s word choice indicates she has had multiple conversations with the police, plus there was her recent visit to the Seventeenth Precinct.

Before, there was one pressing question: How did Shay know Amanda?

Now, there is an even more urgent one: What did Shay tell the police?

They already knew Shay had left the necklace at the Seventeenth Precinct, since the gray dot on Valerie’s phone remained at that location even after Shay exited the building. But her subsequent movements that evening were so ordinary they were curious: If Shay had dropped a bombshell at the police station—if she’d described the events that had led to Amanda’s suicide—then surely she would have been more skittish. She wouldn’t have leisurely strolled home, alone. She wouldn’t have cut through a quiet, shadowy walkway between buildings without once checking behind her.

Shay misreads their silence. “Are you angry? I’m so sorry I misled you. I just didn’t know what to say when I showed up at the service.”

Jane shakes her head. “We’re not mad. And no way would we ever judge you for that.”

“It was really nice of you to come pay your respects,” Cassandra adds.

Shay’s expression turns wistful. “I remember thinking Amanda looked like someone I’d want to be friends with.”

More pieces fall into place: On the days Shay temps, she walks to a bench at lunchtime and pulls a foil-wrapped sandwich out of her bag, eating by herself. When she rides the bus to work or walks to the gym, she doesn’t chat on a headset—instead, she usually appears lost in thought. She stays in her apartment most nights.

Shay is desperately lonely.

Cassandra files away that key observation to discuss with Jane later, though she suspects Jane has already come to the same conclusion; the sisters’ thoughts are often in sync.

“Amanda was a really good person,” Cassandra says. “Did you two ever talk at the vet’s?”

Shay shakes her head rapidly. “No, not really—and my cat died last year, so…”

“Ah,” Cassandra says. “Well, you would have liked Amanda, and she you.”

Jane takes a sip of tea before steering the conversation in a new direction. “No wonder you panicked when you saw that woman walking into the subway station a little while ago.”

“I haven’t been able to ride the subway since that day. It’s hard to even get near the stairs.… And that woman looked so much like Amanda.” Shay’s face creases. “But … I guess I imagined it all.”

Cassandra’s gaze meets Jane’s. The sisters had noticed Shay’s eyes well up as she’d stared at Amanda’s photograph at the memorial service, and later they’d seen her repeatedly cross the street seemingly to avoid subway grates. She’d also been observed leaving an office that was later identified as belonging to a therapist.