She hesitated. “Tavi? Was I alone in the fire?”
I chose the answer that would cause her the least pain. “Shumi was with you—but she’s in another room in the hospital, just down from you. She’s not burned, either.”
Diya’s brow furrowed. “I can’t remember…” Her fingers clenched on mine, her other hand starting to rise to her head only for her to put it back down when the line on the back of it tugged against her skin. “Why can’t I remember?” The pulse in her neck jumped, her breathing ragged. “Dark, it’s so dark. Smoke. Fire. I can’t breathe. Tavi. I can’t—”
The doctor gave me a sharp look.
“Shh.” I leaned down to kiss her nose in that way that always made her smile. “Everything’s fine. You’ll remember after all themedicine’s out of your system. Sleep now. The more you rest, the better you’ll feel.”
Turning toward me, she said, “I’ll remember?”
“You’ll remember,” I promised, but later, after she was asleep, I stood with the doctor in the hallway outside the ICU, Ackerson beside me, and learned the truth.
“It’s possible she’ll never recall what happened that day,” Chen said, his large hands in the pockets of his white coat. “Could be because of psychological trauma, or it could be physical—she did sustain an injury to the side of her head.”
“Are you saying her memory’s gone?” Ackerson demanded.
“Nothing is guaranteed. Shehasjust regained consciousness.” He looked at me. “Do you have any further questions, Mr.Advani?”
“I guess…just…what do I do? About telling her about her family?”
“Play it by ear. Right now, she’s in an extremely vulnerable state, but if she becomes distraught when she realizes they’re not visiting her, then tell her—we’re keeping her in the ICU for the time being, so you’ll have staff nearby to help deal with the aftermath.”
Once he’d left, I slumped into one of the armchairs in the otherwise empty waiting area.
Ackerson came down next to me.
I was expecting her to grill me, but she said, “Why did you go speak to Andrea Smithy-Carr?” in a quiet voice.
So, shehadput a tail on me—or she’d bugged my car. I didn’treally care. “Because I think Bobby was behind the fire, behind everything.”
Then, despite Ngata’s command that I not have any conversations with the detective without him, I told her all of it. From the death of baby Ani, to Shumi’s teenage fall and adult bruises, to Rhiannon’s mysterious death, to the allegations of bullying. Whether she believed me or not, I’d done everything I could—and now that Diya was awake and alive,shehad to be my focus.
“They blamed a five-year-old for another child’s violent death?” A stunned shock that felt real.
“Easier to sweep it under the rug than if it was a boy of eleven.” I looked at her. “Especially in that time and place.”
Lips tight, she stared at the wall across from us. “We’ve conclusively identified Sarita and Rajesh Prasad’s remains.”
I’d known inside that Diya’s parents were dead, but it still felt like a punch to the gut. “Bobby?”
Instead of answering, she said, “His business was on the brink of bankruptcy. We just gained access to his business accounts today.”
I thought of the sea of red on those invoices, remembered again how proudly Rajesh had spoken about Bobby’s business at the party. “The family didn’t know that.”
“Detective Baxter is convinced you killed Jocelyn Wai in a rage.”
“I wasn’t there,” I said tiredly, concentrating on being here, in this moment, rather than in the dark hours before Joss’s fall. “He has all the security camera footage that shows Icouldn’thave done it, but he zeroed in on me after Virna’s death and can’t bear to be wrong.”
“What about Virna, then? Lot of money involved there.”
Leaning back against the wall, I let the past tumble through my head. “I was still gambling then; pissed it all away.” Ackerson had likely dug up the gambling by now, or Baxter would’ve clued her in,so better not to hide it. “But I always neededmore. So if it had been about money, I’d have been better off with her alive.”
I leaned forward with my forearms braced on my thighs. “I wasn’t in her will—and she’d gifted me that quarter of a million, so it wasn’t as if I was in debt to her. Her death held no benefit for me.”
“It wasn’t? About money?” Softer voice, softer words.
I considered my earlier belief that Ackerson’s anger was rooted in sympathy for the women she thought I’d conned. “You know who my mother is, right? Beautiful, striking Audrey Advani. Stunning at sixty-two and still an icon.”
