“I thought about it, but I didn’t do anything.”
“I’m so sorry.” A sob escapes. “I’ve let you down, Cody, and I’m sorry. I’ve let both of you down.”
“It’s OK, Mum.” He hugs in closer again and a small cry shudders out.
“I’m here now,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “I’m here now.”
107
Susan
Sunday
Greta is more than likely being discharged just as soon as her doctor does her rounds this afternoon. She’s still in a hospital gown, but I’ve brought in a sweatshirt and leggings for her. It’ll make her feel more normal, she says, while she’s waiting for the green light to go home. Leesa and I are sitting on hard plastic chairs on either side of Greta’s bed. I’ve been here for an hour already, whereas Leesa has just arrived, having spent all night and all morning with Maeve. Bella is at home with Jon, so I’m free to stay here as long as they need me.
Venetia is somewhere here too, in the same hospital, and much as she terrifies me, I’m relieved I didn’t kill her. I don’t know if I could handle that on top of everything else.
Maeve, thank goodness, is going to be fine. Concussion and a broken leg, but nothing more serious. Not that that’s any small thing, but compared to what might have happened…Leesa is pale, her eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled, but she’s managing a watery smile for Greta.
“Samir is with Maeve, and she’s chatting away now, back to herself, soI said I’d pop over to you,” she says. “Handy you’re both in the same hospital. Thanks for that.” A grin.
Greta grins back. “I aim to please.” For all her attempts at normality, she’s still deathly pale and her voice is hoarse.
They banter back and forth to avoid talking about the tough stuff: the fact that four people are dead, that three are in hospital, that two will face charges. I can’t join in. I can’t stop thinking about all of them, but most of all, Felipe. Felipe, who died saving Bella. Kind, good, well-meaning Felipe. Now I understand his guilt, why he felt so bad about sending my screenshot to Rory, triggering what Rory did to Aimee. But he never meant for any of it to happen—he was one small cog in a machine of actions and consequences. Aimee’s death is on me more than it’s on Felipe. But Felipe has paid with his life.
Leesa is standing now, saying goodbye, returning to Maeve, and once the curtain falls back into place, I tune in to Greta, who is saying something in a low voice to me.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“I didn’t want to say this in front of Leesa, but I think it was Maeve who put the almonds in Nika’s lunch.”
“Oh my god, stop. She wouldn’t.”
“I know, but I saw something on her laptop about spiking food…I didn’t think it was serious—obviously, I’d have said something if I did. But then, the next day, Juliette Sullivan was dropping off her daughter’s gum shield and told me she thought she’d seen Maeve go into the changing room, and I got a bit worried.” Greta bites her lip.
“Wait, Juliette was accusing Maeve?”
“No, not at all—it was just an opportunity for Juliette to get a little dig in, having a go at Maeve for wearing a hoodie and woolly hat in the warm weather. She did that little laugh she does to show she’s just joking, you know?”
“Oh, Iknow.”
“But it stopped me cold,” Greta continues. “Maeve, as we’re both well aware, does not play hockey and had no reason to be in the changing room.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. So that’s why I checked the bag and the lunchbox.”
“And then you got caught and couldn’t admit you were afraid Maeve had done it.”
“Exactly.”
“Even though it meant taking the blame yourself and losing business?”
A hapless shrug. “We’re family. She’s a kid. Kids do stupid things.”
I think about Bella at home with Jon. What would I do if she did something stupid? Anything, I realize. I’d take the blame, go to prison, whatever it took. I think of Celeste now, and what she faces with Nika, and for the first time since all this happened, I feel for her. We’re all trying our best, and none of us can predict how this parenting roller coaster will go. When Celeste first looked at baby Nika in her arms, there’s no way she could have known it would come to this. God, there’s no way for any of us to know what our kids will do, what will be done to them.
I clear my throat. “Speaking of stupid things…I can’t believe I got us into a situation like this. I can’t believe I injected you with heroin.” My voice breaks. “Greta, I’m so, so sorry.”
