Then Chloe spoke from the hallway.
“She doesn’t need help bathing.”
Mother’s nails pressed into my wrist.
“I’m already here,” I replied. “We’ll be down shortly.”
Another silence.
I imagined Julian and Chloe exchanging a look outside the door.
Finally, Julian said, “Dinner is getting cold.”
Their footsteps retreated.
Mother whispered, “They know.”
“They suspect something.”
“They’ll punish me.”
“No.”
“They always do.”
I crouched beside her again.
“Listen to me. In a few minutes, law enforcement will be here. Until then, you stay in this room. Do not open the door for anyone except me or a uniformed officer.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going downstairs.”
Her face went white.
“No.”
“I need to keep them from coming back up.”
“Elena, please.”
I took both her hands.
“I have spent twenty years standing in courtrooms against dangerous people. I know how to stay calm.”
“They’re not strangers. They know how to hurt you.”
The sentence carried more meaning than she intended.
Julian knew my history. He knew I blamed myself for leaving home after college. He knew I had missed birthdays, holidays, and countless Sunday dinners because of trials and investigations. He had used that absence to build a story in which he was the loyal child and I was the selfish one.
He knew exactly which wounds to press.
“I won’t let him distract me,” I said.
I helped Mother into the guest bedroom and locked the door from the inside. The room had one tall window overlooking the backyard. I checked that it opened easily in case officers needed another way in.
