“Your mom and I used to be friends. When she moved away, we lost touch.” Her eyes stay on the road. “I took your case because when I saw your face, I saw hers too.”
“I’m nothing like her.” My voice cracks around the words. “I will never be like her.”
I turn my head toward the window. The road blurs past, lights stretching into thin lines. I want to disappear into them. But she keeps talking.
“I know her choices were questionable, but she was still your mom.”
“Questionable?” I snap, turning back to her. “You have to have a choice to question it. She didn’t. She let Justin beat me overand over so she wouldn’t get hit instead. And that night? That night, I was glad she was gone.”
“You don’t mean that,” she says, eyes fixed ahead.
“I do.” I stare at the road. “I don’t remember much. I blacked out, too. But I remember a man in a white ski mask walking around outside. I remember seeing him at the door. I remember opening it.”
She says nothing.
A laugh tears out of my chest. “You know what’s funny? I didn’t care if he killed us all. I wanted to die more than I wanted to stay in that house for one more day. What I didn’t know is that I would live long enough to be blamed for it.”
I laugh again and clamp my hand over my mouth, like I can push the sound back inside.
“I swear to you, Simona,” I say through it, “so many times I wanted to believe I did it. Just so I could feel powerful enough to say I had control over what happened.”
I look down as my emotions finally spill over.
“The only thing I regret from that night is that I didn’t run with Sofia before the cops came,” I say, my voice breaking. “But I know I wouldn’t have been able to give her the life she deserved.”
Simona swallows. “I promised your mom I would take care of you if anything happened to her.” A tear slips down her cheek. “I was there when she gave birth to you. I could have taken you. She didn’t want you. She had postpartum depression.” She sniffles. “But I thought the same thing you do. I wouldn’t have been able to give you the life you deserved.”
“I guess we aren’t so different after all.” I lift my head. The road outside the window finally looks familiar.
Simona turns into the Del Mar driveway and stops the car. For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Then she breaks the silence.
“I found her,” Simona says. “Sofia.”
My head snaps toward her.
“The family who did the closed adoption agreed to meet you one day, when you’re ready. Just for a day. They don’t want complications in Sofia’s life.” Her voice softens. “She’s doing great. She’s a happy child.”
I bite my lower lip and look down, then back at her. “I told you I can’t see her.” My hand closes around the door handle.
“Carmen,” she calls as I step out, “I keep my promises. I will come back. You will see her when you are ready.”
I slam the door and lean toward the window. “Simona, your sins won’t wash away by helping someone like me. It’s too late,” I spit. “You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved.”
She swallows and says nothing. She just watches me walk toward the iron fence, toward the house. Her car stays there, the engine of her car still running, like she’s making sure I don’t go anywhere else.
Even if I wanted to, where would I go?
I open the front door. There is no police tape now, but the house still feels like a crime scene.
The first thing I see is the blood on the black-and-white marble floor. The metallic smell hits my nose as I step past the dark puddle and climb the stairs, moving toward the room.
My bedroom door is locked, so I go into Judas’s room first.
It’s the smell of him that makes me want to stay. It stays in the air like he is still here. But the pull of my own bed is stronger. I grab a shirt from the chair near the closet and step out onto the balcony.
I lean on the railing and slide over to mine.
