“I want to ask you a few questions if that’s okay.”
I don’t want to talk to her. She’s just another adult who wants to hear my story again, and I’m tired of lying.
She gives me a moment to reply, and when I don’t, she clears her throat and she starts talking again anyway. “We’re all very happy that you’re doing well.”
That almost makes me laugh in a cynical-not-funny-at-all kind of way. Doesn’t she see me lying in a hospital bed right now?
“I want you to know you can talk to me. I want to help you any way I can.”
I stare at her, hearing what she’s saying but knowing I can’t trust her. I can’t expect her to help me even if it’s her job. She’s a detective. She looks for facts, things that can’t be refuted, and what I’ve experienced the last few days is confusing. Even though I lived it, I don’t understand it.
“I don’t need to talk,” I say.
“Is everything okay at home?” she asks.
I hate her questions because the answers are so obvious. There’s no need for her to ask them in the first place.
“No. My sister is missing.”
She tilts her head, looking at me like she’s trying to read between the lines of what I’m saying. “It can be hard to adjust to change. I’m sorry you’re going through that. How have things changed since she’s been gone?”
I blink, gaze faltering. “Everything changed.”
“Do you feel safe at home without her there?”
I narrow my eyes. Is that why she’s really here? To make sure my dad is taking care of me? He doesn’t have anything to do with what happened. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“If something’s wrong, we want to help you.”
“The only thing wrong is my sister is missing,” I say a little too loudly. Like I’m on the verge of losing control again.
She nods, reaches into the pocket of her jacket, and pulls out a business card. “This is my number. I know you don’t want to talk right now, but if you change your mind, you can call me.” She sets the card down on the bed. “I’ll let you get some rest.”
Right before she walks out the door I say, “Wait.”
She turns with her hand on the doorframe.
“Was anyone else found by the river?” I ask. My heart beats in a mix of nerves and agony, scared that she’ll say yes.
“No. Were you with someone?”
I hesitate, not knowing how I should answer. I can’t tell her I’m searching for Mallory’s body.
“I thought I saw someone in the water,” I lie.
She shakes her head. “No one else was found.”
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. On one hand, I’m relieved her body hasn’t washed up, but then where is she?
29
EMMA
The first day home is strange. My dad doesn’t want to leave me alone, but he doesn’t know what to say to me. Instead, we awkwardly sit on the couch with the TV on as background noise, but I don’t think either of us is paying attention.
We’re both numb. I’m afraid to say anything that’ll send me back to the hospital, and I can tell he’s afraid to say something that’ll make me “run away” again.
I should let us have this false peace, but I can’t handle all of the questions in my head. I keep thinking about how badly Mallory needed me and how I didn’t see it. Then I shift to the fact that my dad knew about the cheating and didn’t tell me. How could he keep something that important to himself?
