She glanced up at the photo of her mother as a young woman on a shelf beside the brass Sabbath candleholders she’d brought on her journey to America. Her mother had escaped the Holocaust, but her parents and older siblings had not.
Diana pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched her mother’s face. Please watch over our precious Ethan and keep him safe, she prayed.
She turned from her mother’s large, sad eyes. On the table was a pile of mail someone must have brought in. She picked it up and started to sort through the letters, just to have something to do. The envelopes had already been slit open. But why? Then she realized the FBI had probably gone through the mail, checking for a ransom note.
Seemingly out of nowhere, she was hit with such a powerful wave of exhaustion she could barely remain standing. During her residency, she had sometimes gone without sleep for forty-eight hours or more, but she’d never felt like this.
She hadn’t slept since Saturday, the night before last, when the Simmers had dropped Ethan off. She’d lain awake much of that night, listening for sounds coming from Kevin’s old room, where her grandson slept in his father’s bed, surrounded by posters of hobbits and Middle-earth, Kevin’s obsession all through his teens. But Ethan hadn’t awakened.
She could only pray he’d slept soundly last night, too, wherever he’d been. That whoever had taken him—because by now it was clear that Ethan had been taken—would be gentle with her grandson.
She held the mail with one hand, and clinging to the banister with the other, went upstairs.
Aubrey’s bedroom door was open. Diana’s heart sped up. Aubrey was here. Her winter coat lay across the white bedspread, and her unopened suitcase sat near the foot of the bed.
But she wasn’t in her room.
Diana felt a powerful letdown.
Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe Ethan was asleep in his father’s bed.
She took a few running steps and opened the door to Kevin’s room. Ethan’s little suitcase still on a chair, a pair of red sneakers on the floor, the sweatshirt he’d worn at breakfast then discarded before they’d left for the carnival, lying inside out on the bed.
But no Ethan.
She held her hand over her heart and sank onto the bed. On the wall across from her was Kevin in cap and gown. It was his high school graduation photo, which he never would have agreed to keep in his room with his favorite posters. But he had gone off to Dartmouth, so she’d hung the photo and occasionally sat here, not quite over her guilt for missing his graduation. Wondering whether Kevin had forgiven her for choosing a critically ill patient over him.
At the time, she’d been certain her son would understand, but something in his cool manner when she joined the family after he’d already received his diploma had told her she had failed him—that she’d been failing him for a long time.
Then, she had messed up yet again when she was unable to be at his wedding.
He stared back at her now with dark, solemn eyes.
It was how he’d looked at her last month, right after Christmas, when she’d flown up to New York, to see him for the first time in eight years and meet her grandson.
She had taken a taxi to her son’s Manhattan apartment from La Guardia, surprised to find him waiting for her in the lobby of his building. They hadn’t hugged, just greeted each other formally, which tore at her heart. He said he wanted to talk to her before they went up to see Kim and Ethan. After leaving her luggage with the doorman, they crossed over to Central Park and sat on a bench beneath a bare tree, surrounded by piles of dirty snow and wet, brown leaves.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me back into your life.”
Kevin looked away, his lower lip trembling. Her little prince. He would always be her little prince, no matter what.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” she said. “My illness, your wedding. Please believe me that I never did anything to deliberately hurt you.” She reached for his hand.
He continued to gaze across the park in the direction of Belvedere Castle, where she had fallen in love with his father. But Kevin didn’t know about that, or about all the difficult things they had shared, so he couldn’t possibly understand the extent of her devastation when Larry left her for another woman.
Kevin turned back to her, his eyes dark and serious. “I told Kim that Ethan should have all his grandparents in his life. She may be a little aloof toward you at first, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. The most important thing is that you and Ethan get to know each other.”
Diana didn’t know why Kevin and Kim had agreed to forgive her, and it wasn’t important. All she cared about was having her son back, getting to know his wife, and most of all, having her grandson in her life.
Over the next few days, the four of them went to museums and plays, and ice skating in Rockefeller Center beneath the magnificent Christmas tree. She and Kim, and sometimes Kevin, took Ethan to his karate and gymnastics classes. Ethan called her “Grandma,” and even Kim laughed and seemed at ease around her. When Diana asked whether Ethan could spend a few days with her in Miami, they agreed. Kevin thought it would be cool for his son to sleep in his old room and to see the park where he’d learned to play ball.
“Kim is nervous about Ethan staying with you,” Kevin told her privately. “But I reassured her. You’re his grandmother, and I know Ethan will be safe with you.”
And she had let him down.
“I’m sorry, Kevin,” she said to the photo.
She left the bedroom and closed the door. Barely able to stand, she used the wall for support to get to her own room and collapsed on her bed, dropping the mail beside her. The room began spinning, and she was reminded of the dreadful teacup ride, the turning barrel in the fun house, and those even-worse times when vertigo had taken over her life. She shifted onto her side and shut her eyes.
She was jarred by soft ringing. Her cell phone. This could be the ransom demand they’d been waiting for. But why call her and not the Simmers? She fumbled in her pocket for the phone, hand trembling.