Leah's diary burned in my mind.
How I missed Vivienne. Her warm smile, her kind eyes, her soft laugh. The way she'd put her hand over mine, always encouraging.
Now my daughter's DNA was under her dead daughter's fingernails.
I dug my phone out of my back pocket. The screen flared too bright. My text to Vivienne from last night stared back at me.Call me. Please.
No response.
Can I come over?I typed.
I hit send before I could regret it. The message thread showed the little graydeliveredlabel underneath. For a second, nothing. Then the three dots appeared. Blinked. Disappeared. They didn't come back.
It was time to go see her. I just hoped she'd accept my apology.
The patio door slid open behind me. "Mom?"
Mia stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame. A crease ran along her cheek. Her eyes were swollen, her lids puffy.
Apollo slid between us, pushing his head under her hand. She scratched absently behind his ears, not really seeing him.
"I was planning to visit Viv."
She perked up. "I want to go."
Part of me wanted to bundle her back to bed. Pull the blankets over both of us and pretend the outside world didn't exist. Leaving her alone here felt worse.
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
"First, I'm getting some food in you. Let's make that grilled cheese and tomato soup I promised, okay? Then we'll go."
She gave a tremulous nod.
Thirty minutes later, we'd both eaten. Mia had only managed half of her sandwich, but it was something. Everything had tasted like cardboard, but I'd forced it down.
Once we finished, I retrieved the new keys from the counter. Old habit made me walk the circuit, checking every new lock, the deadbolts I knew I’d already locked. Still, I checked.
I felt the press of Mia at my shoulder. The weight of the keys in my fist. "Let's go."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Vivienne's door opened six inches, the chain on. My chest tightened as I inhaled the familiar scent of sizzling beef bulgogi, a Cho household favorite meal.
Daniel stood in the crack. He wore a gray T-shirt and sweatpants, his feet bare. His eyes were red and swollen. Several days of beard growth stubbled his face. He looked tired, the kind of tired you couldn't scrub off. "Dahlia."
"We wanted to check on you and Viv, to see if there's anything we can help with."
Daniel blinked at us. "You didn't have to."
He looked down at Mia. Took in her hunched shoulders, zip-up sweatshirt, and the gray rims under her eyes. She stared at the welcome mat.
The chain slid back with a small metallic scrape, and the door opened wider. "Viv?" Daniel called. "Dahlia and Mia are here."
Something clinked in the kitchen. The house was wrong. Too quiet. No strains of music from Leah’s playlist drifting down from upstairs. No rapid-fire Korean from Viv on the phone.
Mia's hand slid into mine. Her palm was damp with nervous sweat.
