I watch Liesel’s body relax when her mother calls her that. She steps forward, and her mother hugs her. Silent tears trail down Liesel’s cheeks, and her mother’s eyes water. I wish I were the one holding Liesel. I glance at Heidi who looks left out. Their mother must sense it because she opens her arms to her otherdaughter. The three of them cry, leaving me feeling useless but determined.
Chapter Eleven
Liesel
My mom, sister, and I stand huddled together as we cry again. For the first time in years, it’s not Bastian I want to turn to. It’s not even my mother. It’s a man I barely know. The man who stalked me, for lack of a better term. But he was nearby when I needed him. It tempts me to wonder if this is some fucked-up situation he concocted to force me to rely on him. It’s a twisted thought that leaves my mind as quickly as it came.
While the three of us hug, Jorge slips around us and grabs his computer. I’m silently grateful he could without drawing any attention to himself or the box. He’s discreet when he places it on the dining room table and sits. He flips it open and clicks on several things. While he does that, I burrow againstMutti. I wrap my arms around her and my sister. I don’t know if I’d cry like this if it was just Jorge with me. I wonder if being around them amplifies my emotions. I was calm with Jorge. He kept me distracted.
Now my mind jumps from one horrific scenario to another. I can’t make it stop. I envision my father chained to a chair, bloody and beaten. I imagine his mutilated body coming backto us piece by piece in the gift boxes for months. I picture him returning to us as if nothing happened except for his lack of a hand. I even try to convince myself that they stole his ring and stuck it on someone else’s hand. That he’s really fine, and this is all a diabolical hoax. That certainly seems the least plausible.
“You should call Bastian and have him come here.” My mom’s words intrude on my wayward thoughts.
“No. There’s nothing he can do. His patients need him more than I do.”
I try not to flinch as that sounds horrible, especially since we’re in this suite because I insisted upon relying on someone else—some other man. It sounds like I don’t care about my partner—the man I planned—plan—planned to marry. There’s something inherently wrong with me because my boyfriend isn’t who I’m turning to.
Was there already a crack in our relationship that was previously invisible? Or did meeting Jorge do that?
I’ve reacted to his physical presence in a way I haven’t since meeting Bastian. I didn’t even react to Bastian as strongly as I did Jorge. Now I’m leaning on Jorge and have confidence he can protect me when I don’t believe that about Bastian. I know he’d try, but he doesn’t inspire the same confidence.
Maybe he should be here in case my father arrives and needs medical attention. That would be reasonable, but I’m not motivated to call him. Excluding Jorge from my rationale, I don’t want to explain why this might be happening. I don’t want Bastian to know the things my father got into. What I’ve gotten into. I’d like to think he’d understand, but I’m not convinced he would.
“Shouldn’t you tell him something happened?” Heidi pulls away from us. “I have to tell Friedrich.”
“No!” My answer’s too emphatic.
“You may not want your boyfriend, but I want mine.”
“Heidi, it’s not about wanting or not wanting Bastian. The more people involved in this the messier it will get.”
“Do you think Friedrich would do something to keep Papa from coming home?”
“No. I think he’d ask the same questions Bastian would, and they’re ones we can’t answer.”
Her gaze darts to Jorge. “Or ones you just don’t want to.”
“That’s right. I don’t want to answer why I’m certain a potential client I barely know has a better chance of solving this than anyone else.”
My words are harsher than I intend. I don’t look at Jorge because I know how unappreciative and manipulative they sound. I don’t mean them to be hurtful, but they’re true.
“I want my boyfriend here to comfort me. You might be fine being alone, but I’m not, Anne.”
Jorge rises from his seat and walks around the table. I finally meet his gaze, and I know he understands what I meant. There’s no anger, annoyance, or hurt. He accepts what I said with more grace than I have.
“Ms. Schlossberg, I empathize with your wish to have someone you trust and is familiar to you here. But you’re sister’s right. Involving more people only endangers more people. Until we know for sure who’s involved, it’s best not to draw attention to you or your loved ones. The best thing to do is to remain here and out of sight.”
“You said overnight earlier, but now you make it sound like it’ll be longer than that.”
“Mrs. Schlossberg?—”
“It’s Gretel. Formality seems a bit pointless right now.”
“And I’m Heidi.”
“Thank you. Unless things resolve by tomorrow, it’ll be indefinitely. You can take the two bedrooms, and I’ll sleep on thesofa. My mother has a close friend who lives here. I can ask her to go to your homes to gather what you need.”
“How will I explain that to Friedrich?”
