But Lee needed one more second in the spotlight. “Please help me find my little sister!” she said. She burst into tears, allowing the cameras to flash. “Help us, please,” she breathed, a perfect last whisper.
Markos put an arm across her shoulders and steered her away from the podium. Lee wanted to fight him and stay in front of the crowd, but his grip was tight. She inhaled, showily, eventhatcalculated for the cameras, and turned away from her rapt audience.
The press conference, and Lee’s calculated breakdown, would reach everywhere, including Hollywood.
29
Lee
After she walked out ofthe press conference, Lee asked Markos where she could “powder her nose,” an insipid euphemism that Charlotte had taught her daughters to use, becauseGod forbida woman mention her bodily functions or wish for privacy. Lee needed to be alone…just for a minute, offstage.
Markos pointed her down a side hallway with a polite nod. The door to the women’s WC was unmarked aside from a fading stick figure in a skirt.How apt,thought Lee, pushing open the door to a utilitarian room tiled in white squares.
The sink had two taps:“Ζ”and“Κ.”Lee vaguely remembered from her sister’s bathroom that “K” was “kryo,” cold. (She later discovered that “Z” was “zesto,” for a zesty, hot shower.) It felt good to run water over her hands. The window above the stalls was open a crack, letting in the ambient chorus of Athens: horns, mopeds, passionate shouting in a language she could not decipher.
There she was, cloudy in an old mirror above the sink: Lee Perkins, superstar.
She’d done it again—made her eyes vulnerable, let her voice break at the perfect moment as she said,Help us, please.Even in genuine terror about her sister, she’d automatically performedgrief like the trained seals she’d once seen on a school trip to SeaWorld Orlando.
And the most damning thing was that for those few minutes in front of the cameras, with everyone hanging on her words, she’d felt supremely alive, even verging onhappy. Lee gripped the edge of the porcelain sink. She’d sworn she was here to find Regan, but she’d just used her sister’s disappearance to score a hit of attention. The pattern was gross and obvious: Create a crisis or find one, swoop in as savior, thrive on feeling essential. Then what?
Then nothing.
Then back to the gnawing emptiness.
She was still that fifteen-year-old girl who’d just found her father’s body, the one who tried to convince herself that tragedy made her special. (As opposed to just…tragic.) A weight settled on Lee’s chest. The high of being needed was already fading, leaving her emptier than ever.
30
Lee
Markos guided Lee unnoticed througha basement door to the parking garage, then drove her back to Regan’s apartment. “We’re getting many calls now,” said Markos. “I can only hope one is a credible lead. It was brave of you to speak.”
“Thank you,” Lee managed. Her mind was racing, her skin electric…as if tiny shocks were running just beneath the surface. When she turned her head too quickly, light outside the car window lagged behind her vision and made her dizzy. Her brain chemistry was definitely off.
It had taken months to get the right balance. A doctor had shown her a chart, the way her moods could veer frighteningly high, then dangerously low. She had to be watchful, the doctor insisted. “If you don’t take these medications religiously,” he said, “you need to understand that mania will return…and eventually, so will suicidal ideation. I want you to buy one of those plastic pillboxes, with the days and ‘AM’ and ‘PM.’ Do you promise me, Lee? This matters. I want you to live a full life, and you can, but if you mess with the meds, your moods will get out of control fast.”
“I promise,” Lee had said, picking at the wrist of her mental hospital sweatsuit. She had meant it, had been very careful sinceher release. But how could she anticipate an entire country with no Walgreens? “Markos,” said Lee. “Can I ask you something?”
“Hm?”
“I need to talk to a Greek doctor. Could you help me…” She intended to ask him if he could help her find a psychiatrist, but he was staring straight ahead as if he hadn’t heard her. “Markos?”
“I’m sorry, I am distracted,” he said. “My apologies. What were you saying?”
“Oh,” said Lee. “Nothing, never mind.” She fell silent as he drove toward Plaka. The last few blocks were narrow and cobbled. “You can drop me here,” said Lee.
“No, it’s OK,” said Markos. He ignored thePedestrian Onlysigns, drove straight to Regan’s door. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, putting the car in Park.
“I’m not brave, actually,” said Lee.
“I disagree,” said Markos.
“I don’t have a choice,” said Lee. “People want to watch dramatic things. If I can bring attention to Regan, if I can find her, I’ll do anything.”
Markos nodded. “I would do the same,” he said.
As he spoke, Markos seemed preoccupied, gazing fixedly at a spot over her shoulder.Typical chauvinist,thought Lee. “Good night,” she said.
