“Elisa, Linda’s mother, has never gone abroad that I know of.”
“Elisa. Linda’s mother,” I repeat in a trance. Elisa. Linda’s mother. Elisa. Linda’s mother.
I leave the pharmacy stunned and hail a taxi back to the estate.
Elisa has a daughter?! When did she have her? Elisa’s thirty now, Linda is thirteen, so she had her at ... “Holy shit!”
The taxi driver gasps. “Beg your pardon, sir. I can’t avoid the potholes. The asphalt’s practically disintegrating.”
“Sorry, I was thinking out loud.”
Elisa had Linda at seventeen! And she didn’t tell me shit!
I arrive at the estate and take off toward the annex without even waiting for the change from the fifty euros I give the taxi driver. On the driveway, I cross paths with Elisa.
“They said you were looking for me this morning,” she says icily. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
I don’t know. Maybe there’s something she needs to tell me too. “Not now, sorry,” I cut her short. “Can we talk later?”
“I have plans,” she replies sharply.
“I’m sure you have many,” I suggest. “But we have several things to talk about.”
She snorts, smugly. “I’m going to the stable. When you’ve finished your business, you can find me there.”
I wait for her to walk away before I dash up the steps of the annex, taking them three at a time, to find Linda still perched on the edge of the tub.
“You took your time, didn’t you?”
“Not a word,” I warn her, handing her the bag. “I think we’re even now.”
And while I watch her unwrap the pads, I realize that Linda is the spitting image of Elisa.
How the hell didn’t I notice before?
16
Elisa
I pace around the stable, distributing hay around one of the stalls with a pitchfork, and every time I furiously thrust the fork into the stack, I imagine I’m performing a voodoo ritual on Michael.
In my mind, he’s no longer my childhood friend but an enemy intent on depriving me of security, of everything I’ve built through years of sacrifice.
He’s become cold, cynical, ruthless ...
“I’m here,” he says, surprising me from behind.
“Good evening to you too,” I reply without even turning to face him.
“I came to talk. I have some things I need to explain to you, and you have some things to explain to me as well.”
“Good intentions, bad timing,” I reply with a hurried glance.
“It’s never the right time for you, Elisa,” he replies. “Avoiding me won’t change things.”
“I’m not”—I huff—“avoiding you,” I lie.
“Maybe if you stopped for a second—what the hell are you doing?” he asks, furrowing his brow.
