“Flora, there are medicines that can make the voice go away.”
“Really?”
Lee wanted to tell her the truth, which was no, not really. Not forever.
She equivocated, “Your nurse can help you, Flora.”
There was a sound from Flora’s laptop. Flora leaned in to read.
“What is it?” asked Lee.
“Maya just found something.”
“Flora—” said Lee, not wanting to change the subject.
“Mom’s phone was ported out the day she left Athens. Maya just sent me the address where Mom’s phone last connected before it was switched.”
Lee stared at Flora, overwhelmed. “You have the address where your mom’s phone connected on the day she left?”
“Yes.”
“Write it down,” said Lee. “And Flora?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
56
Regan Without François
Regan gripped the steering wheelof her rental car, tears blurring her vision as she exited the Palazzo Casino & Spa. She turned and headed back toward Bogazköy Pass, pressing hard on the gas. How hopefully she had driven into this cheesy resort just days before! Now she felt dizzy and sick, visions of the ridiculously opulent lobby flashing in her mind—its weird mash-up of British colonial charm and Vegas glitz; the blinding light from gazillions of cascading crystal chandeliers; the massive grandfather clock mocking Regan as she waited and waited: alone, perspiring, wearing pink lululemon leggings.
Finally, Regan could no longer sit still on the low, ottoman-style couch. She checked into her room, thinking he would come to her in the night, wake her with kisses. Her hope withered on the second day, yet still she did not leave. How many days did she wait there for him? Her phone had stopped working; it just wouldn’t connect. When at last she left the room, she was broken; forgot her wallet and passport in the safe.
Regan needed to turn around.
She needed to go home to her girls.
Were you supposed to accelerate into hairpin turns? Or decelerate? Regan wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and spedup as the mountain road twisted, revealing glimpses of the Mediterranean, the sunset making its waves gold. She flew past ancient olive groves, rocky gorges, and whitewashed villages perched on cliff sides. Regan blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her vision. She should stop, should pull over, should—
A wild animal burst from the scrubland.
Regan’s mind went slow—Was that a cat? A goat? Do goats come down from the mountains?—and she jerked the wheel instinctively. The tires of her rental Renault lost their grip on the loose gravel. As her world tilted sideways, Regan saw them, her daughters. A vision of walking into her former home with newborn Flora, toddler Isabelle running to her, arms open, calling,Mama!
57
Lee
Once Lee was in hiscar, Markos veered into traffic. “Ten minutes to this address,” he said. He was extremely calm, too calm—eerily calm, as if he knew devastation lay ahead.
“Flora says Regan’s phone connected on the day she disappeared.”
“And then no further activity. Yes, she sent the report. We don’t know any more. It could have been disabled or she could be…”
“Inside the building,” finished Lee.
“Correct.”
