“Charles also said Richard and Ruby probably got rid of them after he moved out.”
“But what if they didn’t?” said Charlie. “Look at this place. The basement is like a fucking shrine to Dad, Charles, and Patty. If they didn’t throw out Dad’s truly awful sketches, why would they throw out his letters?”
Nora blinked up at Charlie, bewildered by the sudden, uncharacteristic practicality in his words.
“Okay,” said Nora. “Say you’re right. I haven’t come across them anywhere, so where would they be?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Charlie. He held out his hand to her, and for longer than she was proud of, she seriously contemplated not taking it, and instead simply lying there on her father’s old bed for the foreseeable future. She had been trying so hard for what felt like so long, and yet failure met her at every opportunity. She was on a steady diet of low sleep and high anxiety. It felt like she had risked her life more fervently than she’d ever avoided risks before, and yet she was no closer to saving Charlie. She looked up.
Charlie. There he was, all disheveled and hairy, his hand outstretched. There was never a choice, not really. She had given up on him in many ways over the years, but when it came down to it, she would always, always take his hand. And so she did.
“I’ll check through the closet in here,” said Charlie. “Why don’t you look in that cupboard where you found Ruby’s file?”
Nora nodded, relieved not to be the one making the decisions for once. She left Charlie in the bedroom and headed for the hall. Upstairs, someone was rattling around in the kitchen. Nora decided she didn’t much care who it was; at this point they were allequally untrustworthy. She would need to be quick and quiet to avoid drawing attention to herself. Richard and Ruby had mostly left them alone since the morning, but if Martin’s letters to Charles still existed, she wasn’t keen for them to catch her searching.
The cardboard box of case files still sat on the floor of the linen closet. Nora stared at them, wondering if they held any other secrets she had yet to uncover. She quickly thumbed through them but turned up nothing of interest aside from a hit-and-run victim with the unfortunate name of Dick Cox.
She pushed the box back into place and examined the shelves, finding only frayed childhood linens, a photo album, and a stack of encyclopedias that, judging by the thick coating of dust, hadn’t been touched in years. She quickly shook the photo album, but no letters fell from between the leaves. She closed the door and turned to make her way back into the bedroom, but someone was blocking her path.
Ruby. Her small but inexplicably intimidating form stood between Nora and the bedroom door. She observed her granddaughter with narrowed eyes, her face creased in a frown.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Nora tried to remember what nonchalance looked like. It was probably the opposite of the way she looked at the moment.
“Oh, I was, um—” But she didn’t have time to lie badly before Ruby cut her off.
“Patty says you’ve been up to see Richard’s father a number of times now.”
Of course she did. Nora’s jaw clenched. This further proved that Patty was keeping tabs on the twins. It was suddenly littlewonder that Martin never wrote to his sister after he left. Was Patty always like this? Could she have been the real reason Martin left town? Or worse, the real reason he was dead, somehow?
“Oliver prefers his own company,” Ruby continued. “I’m asking you on his behalf to leave him alone.”
“On his behalf?” Nora spat. She knew she had to tread lightly with Ruby. She was still living in her grandparents’ house, after all. Say too much and she’d be putting Charlie and even herself in further danger. But her nerves were too frayed to say nothing at all. “Really? Because he sure had a lot to say to me when I was over there.”
Nora thought she caught Ruby’s eyes widen before she regained her steely composure. “Did he? Well, you mustn’t listen to him. He’s been off on his own a very long time. These days he doesn’t have anything of worth to say.”
“Is that why you never visit him?” said Nora.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Patty and Phil do, though,” said Nora. “Why would they visit him so often if he talks nonsense? Maybe he knows something you’d rather I didn’t.” The words tumbled out, her brain unable to catch up with her mouth. Now she’d really stepped in it, she was sure.
Ruby was radiating arctic temperatures. Nora took a step back from the small woman, bumping into the closet door. Ruby, for her part, took a step forward.
“You’re playing a game you can’t win,” said Ruby. “What goes on in this town is none of your business.”
“I—”
“For the last time, stay out of the forest, stay away from Oliver, and leave well enough alone.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning,” said Ruby. She eyed the closet behind Nora and shook her head, tutting at Nora’s latest breach of town privacy. Then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she left Nora standing alone in the wood-paneled basement, more confused and more resolute than ever.
* * *
“Grandma’s a bitch,” Nora declared as she swept back into the bedroom.
