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Acres and acres.
As she got into the still warm car, Haniya realized that when Reine-Marie Gamache said she wanted her company, there was one reason she hadn’t given.
Because I like you.
Haniya had been called brave. She’d been called remarkable. She’d been called tireless and inspirational. She’d been called a hero. All of which, she knew, were true.
But no one had called her friend.
On the way over, Reine-Marie brought Haniya up to speed about Enid Horton and the commission to help the family sort Mom’s things before the sale of the home.
“You said it might be unpleasant. Why’s that? Did you find something?”
That’s when Reine-Marie told her about the monkeys. About the strange collection. The books and drawings. The etching on the bedroom wall.
But not about Ewen Cameron. She felt she should tell the family first.
“Monkeys?” said Haniya, shaking her head. “And now you have to tell the family that their mother was crazy. And you brought me along as an example of crazy?”
Reine-Marie pulled into the brick bungalow on the outskirts of Cowansville. “I’ve brought you along as proof that terrible things can happen, and we can still heal.”
“You think I’ve healed?” said Haniya, with a laugh. “You think I’m whole?”
She turned in her seat and stared at Reine-Marie. “No. What you see is a mockery, a mimic. I’m made up of bits and pieces left on the ground, from other broken people. An arm here, a leg there. A memory, an aspiration, a desire. Sewn together so that I look human, but am not quite.”
“The creature from Frankenstein,” said Reine-Marie.
Haniya laughed. “And here I thought you’d comfort me. Tell me I’m wrong. That I’m fully human and beautiful. Instead you call me a monster.”
“The creature wasn’t the monster,” Reine-Marie said, quietly. “The doctor was.” She smiled at her companion. “I told you this was going to be unpleasant, and you came anyway, to keep me company. If that isn’t whole, I don’t know what is. You are beautiful. And you are brave.”
And, and, Haniya waited, you are my friend.
When Reine-Marie didn’t say it, Haniya turned away and looked out the window.
“You say that your snow covers all sorts of wonderful things. Keeps them alive. But I suspect it covers terrible things too. Things that are better off dead, or at least hidden.” She turned back to Reine-Marie. “Perception. Who’s to say who the monsters are? And where they’re buried.”
Reine-Marie got out of the car and wondered if she was about to make a mistake, in telling the Horton family the long-buried truth she’d uncovered. About their mother. And the monkeys. And the modern monster.
Maybe Haniya was right. Some things don’t need to be brought into light. Some truths can remain unspoken.
Chapter 38
I think I know what happened,” said Jean-Guy, taking a seat at the conference table.
They were once again in the basement of the Auberge. Snow from the day before had blown up against the windows, blocking out the sun.
As Jean-Guy spoke, the rough stone walls of the Old Hadley House seemed to lean closer. The specters trapped there eager to hear how a father might murder a helpless daughter.
“Oui?” said Armand. He too leaned forward.
“I think Paul Robinson didn’t kill his daughter.”
At that Armand’s brows drew down. Worried for Jean-Guy, but willing to listen.
“Go on.”
“I think he saved Abby.” Jean-Guy looked from Armand to Isabelle and saw skepticism, and not a little bewilderment. He hurried on. “At least that’s how he saw it. It came to me just now when I was with Idola. He’d never have hurt Maria—”