“We need them to investigate and find her documents, to prove it without any doubt. Will this audio do that?” I ask, since I’m the only one who hasn’t heard it. Nicola drops her head. I look to Paige. She nods.
“Yeah. It will.”
Before I go home, I help Nicola tuck Avery into the makeshift crib we’ve made out of couch pillows, and then I squeeze her hand.
“You got him. We’re almost there. You don’t have to worry anymore,” I say, but even though she nods in agreement, she looks more distraught than the moment she told me everything.
“Good night,” I say and walk out Paige’s back door, taking the long way around the block back to my house just to be safe, again feeling like I’ve been beaten up by the day.
When I walk in the back door, the place is a mess. It’s not like you see on TV where it looks like the place has been robbed and ransacked exactly, but they certainly don’t close cupboards and drawers behind them. I muster the energy to clean it up before Mia gets home, then I pour a large glass of red wine, and before I can sit down, she is bounding in the door.
“Oh, hey, Mom.” She grabs a backpack and stuffs her iPad and makeup that was sitting on an end table into it. “Bye!”
“Wait! You just walked in the door. Where are you going this late?”
“Mom. It’s like ten? And I’m staying at Chelsea’s tonight. I just have to get my things. You said.”
“I did?”
“And where’s Dad?” she asks. The question feels like a punch. I’ve been so immersed in it all, I haven’t had time to really remember how much this is going to destroy her. It’s not the time now, though.
“Uh...he’s out.”
“’Kay. Bye?” she says.
“Fine. Go.”
I’m too exhausted to argue. I have no idea if I said it was okay or not, and it’s not worth the energy to challenge it. I don’t know if she should be here, anyway. She grabs her things and runs out to her friend’s car. I don’t know if I should tell her anything. Isn’t it better she just thinks he’s a selfish bastard who does recreational drugs with other women, not possibly a murderer? I don’t think I should tell her the truth. Not yet.
I walk past her room. All the lights are on, the TV is on, and the floor is covered in makeup pallets and clothes, her school bag upside down with books piled around it. A blow-dryer, still plugged in, sits in a pile of cheap silver bangles, tangled in necklace chains and hair bands. I ache with exhaustion, but I go in and turn off her TV and unplug the still-hot dryer. I turn off the lamp next to her bed, and before I leave, I notice her open laptop on her desk. She just left, so it hasn’t timed out yet. I go to close the lid, and if I’m being honest, take a quick glance at her desktop while I have the rare opportunity.
I almost click the computer shut, but then a folder catches my eye. I can’t make sense of it. It saysCaleb. Right there on her screen, a tiny yellow folder icon with his name on it. What the hell could that be? Photos from when she had a crush on him, probably. I quickly swipe my finger across the mouse pad to keep the desktop alive. I stare at the icon, weighing the invasion of privacy against my instinct to protect her, if she’s somehow mixed up in this, if she’s protecting Finn, maybe. Oh, God.
I click it open quickly, looking over my shoulder, even though I’d hear her if she’d come back inside. When I open it, I see it’s a video. I feel sweat bead on my forehead, and my heart is hammering. I click Play.
I think my heart stops momentarily when I see it. I fight the blur of tears that obscures my vision. How can this be? Why does she have this?
It’s Caleb. He’s lying on the ground by the entrance to the neighborhood. It’s dark. He’s hurt. Who’s recording this?
He’s lying still but breathing. Then I hear Mia’s voice. This just cannot be what I’m seeing.
“Oh, my God!” Mia’s voice says. “Call—Oh, my—Jesus, call for help.” And then sirens are heard in the background.
“Let’s get outta here!” a male voice says, but who is it?
“What?” I watch Mia step into the frame of the camera and kneel next to Caleb. The arm of the man she’s with pulls her away, but I still can’t tell who it is.
“Help is coming. We can’t be here,” the man says, and then the video stops. Pinpricks of heat climb my spine, and I play it again. I can’t understand it. What does this mean? She was there and never told anyone. Why? Why would she keep this a secret when it looks like she tried to help? Dear God, is Mia involved in this? Is she a murderer? Is that what’s been wrong with her all this time? I want to throw up. I stand up and try to steady my breath. I run my hands through my hair. I tremble. What does this mean? Mia hit Caleb? That doesn’t make sense. She seems like she’s trying to help. Something isn’t right.
I watch it a third time. Then again. By the sixth time I watch, I see something that changes everything. I email the video to myself. I cannot believe what I have seen. It’s not Finn. Finn didn’t kill Caleb.
28
NICOLA
When I hear the rap on the door, I’m sure that it’s Lucas, that he’s found me. Before I can rush to Avery and pick her up and try to run, I see it’s Cora—the second time today she’s almost given me a heart attack. She lets herself in, and I sit at the edge of the bed and bend over, holding my chest, trying to regain my composure. My ribs ache, as I try to calm and slow my breath.
“I’m sorry. God. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t an emergency,” she says.
