Page 98 of Just Ten Seconds

The thought makes the tears start to fall. I keep my head down and open my door. When I reach my bed, I fall onto it and cry for the rest of the night.

“Four hundred and twenty-five individuals have been impacted by Greenfield’s Ponzi scheme where the husband and wife siphoned twenty-five million dollars over four years, living a life of opulence and grandeur. Benjamin and Mara Greenfield are currently being scrutinized for their life of excess, including the hundred-thousand-dollar shark-skin jacket seen here. Reports of their extravagant lifestyle come to light as many are learning today of their personal loss, including the New York Clinical Trial Foundation that supplies grants for clinical trials to cancer patients. Greenfield and Warner Wealth Management was a joint venture between Benjamin Greenfield and the deceased Michael Warner, killed at the hands of Greenfield in September. Mara Greenfield is currently under house arrest for her role in the scheme. The Greenfields have no children.”

I vomit into the toilet.

The reporter with a pale yellow blouse is standing outside my building. The blue banner on the bottom of the news program has bold white print that’s shouting off the screen. Manhattan financier charged with murder in the first degree.

“Mara!” Jackie shouts from the other side of the door.

The banging is thumping in my brain. I know I should get up, but I can’t. I can’t move from this spot.

The floor is cold, and my body shakes as I gasp for breath. I stare out the bathroom door toward the television in the living room. More pounding. Banging. There’s the jingle of keys, followed by the bang of the door swinging open so fast that it hits the foyer wall.

“Mara!” Jackie shouts as she stops on the parquet floor.

“Jesus.” She turns to my doorman, who enters behind her. “She’s okay. We just need some privacy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, bowing out to leave.

The door closes behind him, and Jackie is at my side, pulling me up from the bathroom floor.

My breaths are shallow as I talk to my best friend and clutch the teddy bear in my arms. “My mother won’t talk to me. She says I’m a disgrace.”

“Your parents are assholes, sweetie.” She sets me down on the couch.

“All those people. Those good, hardworking people. Municipalities and charities. They lost everything. They have no pensions or life savings. Did you know the cancer charity went under? People who were waiting for treatment are being denied. All so I could live … here. In this stupid apartment with these horrible things that I don’t even want. It’s my fault, isn’t it? The news is right. I’m a horrible person.”

“Mara, you stop that right now.”

“No matter what, all those people invested with Benjamin. I signed those papers.”

“Honey, you didn’t know what you were signing. Who the fuck would think their husband was wiring fraudulent funds to an account in Guernsey?”

I glance down at the red scar where the home tracking device cuts into my skin. “Because I’m a fool.” My stomach cramps as the pain rolls up my spine and curls around to my gut. “It hurts, Jackie.”

She holds me close. I can feel her head turning and looking around the apartment. The phone that’s pulled out of the wall, the television that’s set to cable television twenty-four/seven. The curtains are drawn, making it eerily dark, and my kitchen is pristine since I haven’t eaten in days. Her hands feel the bones of my back. She leans my head back and looks at my face. My ashy, sullen face and bloodshot eyes.

“You’re coming home with me.”

“I can’t. I’ll ruin your life.”

“Mara, a man bled to death in your arms, and all anyone has said to you since this happened is what a disappointment you are. Or how much you spent on a sapphire necklace or what your husband spent on an ugly-ass coat. I’m bringing you to Warwick.”

“I’m being monitored.”

“Then, they can monitor you at my goddamn house.”

I shake my head in defiance. “Why would you?”

She sternly looks at me with her pale eyes and lifts my chin. “So we can heal you.”

I push her away. “No. You have your life. You don’t need this toxic one spoiling it.”

With her fingers digging into my shoulders, she looks me square in the eye. “You’re my best friend. When I moved from Manhattan, the only thing I missed was you. When I married Nick, you were by my side. When I dropped everything and moved to the country to work at a diner, you’re the only one who didn’t say I was crazy. Every breakup, every heartache, every step of the way, you were there to hold my hand. Now, let me hold your hand.”

On the end table are two handkerchiefs from Hermès. Benjamin brought them home as a surprise. Jackie takes one out and wraps it around her head.

I sniffle and look as she slides her sunglasses on her head. “You look like Thelma.”