Sybil made a face like nothing about her husband was sexy, which pleased Zeke immensely.
“Actually, he calls me for help all the time.” She said it with disgust. Zeke was practically levitating. “Though he’s an ER doctor, so less surgery, more emergency.”
“And him calling you…a bad thing? Also, isn’t that a HIPAA violation?”
“No, I mean, yes. Mark isn’t one to abide by rules.” She didn’t elaborate. “Anyway, he and I both know that I should never have been the one to quit.” She raised and lowered a shoulder, then rotated the same shoulder around in circles a few times. Zeke fought the urge to reach over and massage it. “But I did. And that was that. Now tell me all the juicy details about what they intend to do to you.”
“Well, it’s the third surgery. They have to remove the pins—some, all, I’m not sure—see if I can get the rotation back, see if my movement is the same or what my pain threshold is without them. See how much scar tissue is in there, see if the bones healed properly.”
“Hmmm.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if they can’t, if they haven’t?”
And if they can’t?If they haven’t?
He didn’t reply because they heard Julian’s footsteps nearing, and they each swiveled toward him. Which was just as well, his nonreply. Because that was also another story for another time.
“You said she was in her room?” Julian lingered in the doorframe.
“Yeah.” Zeke nodded, relieved for the change of subject.
“Third door on the right?”
Zeke glanced at Sybil, the mother hen, and the lines on her face were all pointed downward.
“Well,” Julian said, “she doesn’t appear to be here.” He paused and something about his tone, his face, his posture shifted. Like Zeke was looking at someone he didn’t recognize. “I think,” Julian said. “I think that she’s gone.”
11
Night Four
Julian
“What do youmean, she’s gone?” Sybil asked, suddenly on her feet.
It was sweet, Julian thought, but naïve, that Sybil assumed she could tame a child who didn’t want to be tamed. He suspected that both of Sybil’s kids were straight-down-the-middle children. Kids who didn’t push curfew, and when they did, it was because they lost track of time sipping White Claws; kids who had private tutors for their SATs; kids who had private coaches for their club sports.
Julian hadn’t been a particularly good father since Robin died so he didn’t judge Sybil for any of that, but he’d always had an uncanny ability to size people up immediately. It’s probably why he’d been recruited out of the University of Delaware; probably why his unit had been so bereft when he retired. He’d been the best bloodhound of all of them. But without Robin to balance him, he found himself obsessing, spiraling over a botched case, and then one mundane day, his heart seized while having his morning coffee at his desk, and the doctors all toldhim he was lucky to be alive. Simone had just graduated college and moved back home for two weeks to mind him and refused to leave until he called his boss and quit. He knew Robin would want Simone to start her adult life in peace, so he did. He still had the passive income from the candy store, and for a while, he accepted it. Like the universe had handed down its decision, and the least he could do was respect it. Until that period passed, and he found himself running through all the loose ends, all the work he still hadn’t completed.
“Third door on the left is empty. I checked the other rooms too.” He looked at Zeke. “Did you spook her?”
“What? No!” Zeke yelped.
“Well, she obviously hasn’tgone, like run away,” Sybil said. “Let’s not be dramatic. Wait, Julian, are you implying that she’s run away?”
Zeke pushed his chair back, and they strode down the hall as if Julian had maybe just overlooked Betty, as if she were hiding under the bed. He wanted to tell them that he was a professional, but it was easier,better, if they thought he was just a candy store owner, so he said nothing. He already knew enough about Sybil to assess that she would get her nose bent out of shape if she knew about his past employment.
Betty’s room, as Julian had told them, was empty. The bed untouched, the white towels folded atop the mid-century modern bureau.
“Maybe she’s just at her old place,” Zeke said. “Getting some stuff.”
“At eleven o’clock at night?” Sybil asked. Her brow was furrowed in genuine worry.
“Well, we’re awake,” Zeke said. “Also, sheisan adult.”
“We’realwaysawake,” Sybil replied. “It’s just odd, that she wouldn’t say anything. I’ll text her.”
“She’s fine, I’m sure she’s fine,” Zeke said, and Julian thought it was pretty incredible, this golden boy’s rosy view of the world. He hadn’t seen what Julian had; he didn’t know what Julian knew.
“So you’re not worried?” Sybil looked toward Zeke. “It’s a little weird, isn’t it?”
