登入Chapter 93
ADRIANThe jacket was still on the hanger by the door.
I had not sent it to be cleaned. I told myself every day that I would, that I would hand it to the housekeeper or drop it at the place three streets over that had always dealt with my dry cleaning, and every day I walked past it and did not touch it and went to work instead.
The stain had dried into the fabric now, a pale uneven shape across the front, faded from what it had been but still visible if y
Chapter 104ADRIANThe word landed like a slap. I did not have a response ready for it, and in the gap where a response should have been, something else rose up instead, fast, unexamined, a shape my mind reached for because it was easier to hold than the alternative."This has to be Vivian's family," I said.The words were out before I had finished thinking them. I heard myself say it and some part of me, even as I said it, understood I was moving too fast, arriving at certainty too easily, but I kept going anyway because the certainty felt like the only solid ground in the room."Her mother has been talking to the press," I said. "Threatening to run a story. If someone in that family decided to escalate, to try to frighten you, to send some kind of message—""You think Vivian's mother hired someone to run a car at my son," Aria said. Her voice had gone very flat, very still, the shaking underneath it now instead of on the surface. "That is what y
Chapter 103ADRIANI had not been asleep when Ethan called.I had been in the study for three hours, sitting with the desk lamp on and nothing open in front of me, the tablet dark, the quarterly report untouched since morning. I had been thinking about the man across the street from the daycare, about a five year old getting off a wall without waving back, about a jacket still unwashed on a hanger by my front door. I had been thinking, in the specific circling way that came before actual sleep and sometimes replaced it entirely, about all the ways I had been failing to become the kind of person Ethan believed I could be.So when the phone rang at two in the morning, I answered on the first ring."Mr. Hart." Ethan's voice had a different shape to it than I had ever heard from him. Flat where he was usually measured, fast where he was usually careful. "There's been an incident. A car. Julian Hale was struck. Aria and the boy were with him."I was already
Chapter 102JULIANAnother flash. A corridor this time, white and too bright, the ceiling moving past above me the way it does when you are being wheeled somewhere fast.And then a voice, cutting through the fog like something sharpened.Adrian's voice.I could not make out all the words. Fragments only. Get me the attending. I want to know his status. Call ahead to neurology. Move.The voice had the particular quality it always had when Adrian was managing a crisis, controlled, precise, utterly certain of its own authority, the voice of a man who had spent his whole life assuming rooms would rearrange themselves around what he wanted.Somewhere, a machine beside me made a sound. A beep, faster than it had been a moment before.I understood, distantly, strangely, that the machine was measuring something about me, my heart maybe, my blood pressure, some number climbing on a screen I could not see, and that the number was climbing because of his
Chapter 101JULIANThe siren was inside my head before I understood it was outside the ambulance.Sound came in pieces. Not a smooth thing. It arrived and left, arrived and left, like someone was turning a dial on the world, on and off, on and off.Pain came first as light. Not as hurt exactly. White light behind my eyes, too bright, and somewhere underneath the light a shape that had not organized itself yet into anything I could point to and say, that is my shoulder, that is my head, that is the thing that is broken.Then the shape began to gather.It gathered in my side first. A deep, wrong pressure, like something sitting on me that should not have been there. Then my head, a slow throb that got louder every time the ambulance moved, every bump in the road landing inside my skull like a second impact.I could not open my eyes properly. I tried. The light came through in a blur, shapes without edges, and voices layered over each other, too man
Chapter 100ARIAThe car did not stop. It did not even seem to slow, and I saw, in the half second that I had to see anything at all, Julian's body catch the edge of the car's path, thrown sideways, not straight down, sideways and back, into the iron railing that ran along the edge of the pavement.The sound it made was not loud the way I expected violence to be loud.It was almost musical, the way the worst sounds sometimes are, a single low note struck wrong, metal and something softer meeting metal, and then the sound of him hitting the ground beneath it, and I heard both notes separately in the space of less than a second and I would hear them separately, replayed, for a very long time after that night.The car did not stop.I heard the engine climb again, further down the street, and then it was gone around the corner, taillights swinging the same wrong way the headlights had swung coming toward us, and the street went, for one terrible stret
Chapter 99ARIARehearsal ran long that night.I kept the strings back after everyone else had gone. The phrase in the second movement was still not right, a small slide in the violas that landed a fraction late, and I made them play it again. And again. I heard it wrong each time and made them play it once more."Aria," my principal violist said, finally. "It's late.""One more," I said.We played it one more time. It was better. Not perfect. I let them go.I packed up my own violin slowly, my hands moving through the motions without my mind fully in them, and Eli sat on the floor by the door with his bag and his notebook, waiting the patient way he had learned to wait over five years of watching me finish things."Sorry, baby," I said. "I know it's late.""It's okay," he said. "I was doing an entry."I did not ask what the entry said. I had learned, since the night I read the folded page, to let him have the notebook without my eye







