The Coles could have left the note, Aubrey realized. Maybe the red tricycle on the greeting card was a reference to their child.
“Dr. Lynd was cleared of any liability in the malpractice lawsuit you brought against her, isn’t that right?” the reporter asked.
“Yes, but she shouldn’t have been,” Chris Cole said.
“She’s irresponsible,” Rhonda Cole said. “She killed our son and showed no remorse, and now her grandson is missing. Why wasn’t she at the press conference if she has nothing to hide? Why haven’t the police taken her into custody?”
“The woman is a child killer,” Chris Cole said, so loudly that he startled the reporter.
“I can’t believe this,” Aubrey said.
Mama grabbed Aubrey’s hand and squeezed it hard.
The reporter looked upset. He touched his ear, as though listening to instructions. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Cole,” he said. “Back to you, Lourdes.”
“Next up, a visit with some adorable puppies who need homes,” Lourdes said, as a commercial came on.
“They’re crackpots, Mama.” Aubrey was fuming inside. She turned off the TV with the remote, then got up and slammed the doors of the armoire shut.
“The Coles are very angry.” Mama pulled the sweater tighter around her. “They’re parents who lost their child.”
Aubrey leaned against the armoire, rubbing her arms. Child killer. The words chilled her, even though she knew they weren’t true.
But Ethan was still missing, and Aubrey had no idea where to look or what to do, to keep her precious nephew from becoming someone else’s victim.
CHAPTER 19
Child killer, they had called her.
Maybe they were right. Diana shivered in her too-cold bedroom. Maybe she was the real villain in all this. It wouldn’t be the first time she believed she was on the side of good and turned out to be wrong.
She changed into a flannel nightgown, then slipped under the old, worn patchwork quilt, hoping the warmth would stop her chills. The attack by the Coles was upsetting, but she had become somewhat immune to their crazed outbursts during the trial. She was more concerned about what all this was doing to her family.
Kevin had looked close to a breaking point as he pled on TV for his son’s return. But Aubrey was also caught in the maelstrom, experiencing the kind of outrage Diana had back when her eyes had first been opened to the injustices of the world.
The irony was that Diana’s parents had tried so very hard to shelter their daughter, just as Diana had hoped she could do with her own children.
Her poor parents.
She never understood until recently how hard that year must have been for them.
Di could see the shock on her parents’ faces as they took in her outfit—ratty jeans and a peasant blouse she had picked up at a flea market in the Village. They were in New York for a few days, and this was the first time they’d seen her in six weeks, since freshman year began. She hated the feeling that she had disappointed them, but knew she had to stay strong. This was her life now.
They took the subway to the Stage Deli for pastrami sandwiches, but Di didn’t have much of an appetite. She was missing a meeting about an important antiwar demonstration. Or maybe it was Lawrence she hadn’t wanted to miss.
“Why aren’t you eating?” her mother asked.
Di played with the pickle on her plate. “Not hungry.”
Her father put on his concerned physician face. “You’re not taking drugs, are you?”
“Of course not, Daddy,” she lied.
“Lysergide is a very dangerous drug,” he said. “It can cause panic attacks, violence, even psychosis.”
“I’m not taking LSD.”
Her father continued, as though he hadn’t heard her. “And there’s data that years after use, there can be long-term perceptual changes.”
“What I’m experiencing right now are short-term perceptual changes,” Di said. “And not from drugs. It’s as though I’ve been asleep my entire life. I’m finally waking up and seeing the terrible things that are taking place in the world. And more important, I’m trying to stop them.”
“Vat’s happened to you?” her mother asked, her Yiddish accent becoming more pronounced with her agitation. “You dress like a hippie, you talk like a revolutionary. We sent you to college to get an education.”
“And I’m getting one,” Di said. “A better education than I ever dreamed of.”
Her father and mother exchanged a worried look. “This isn’t good,” her father said. “Come back to Miami with us. It’s dangerous for you to stay here.”
Di laughed. “What’s dangerous? Standing up to our government? Not letting them herd us into ovens the way the Nazis did their citizens?”
Her mother’s face went white.
“Oh, Mommy.” Di reached for her hand. “Don’t you understand it’s important that we speak out? If the Jews had fought back, maybe more would have survived. Maybe your parents and brothers would still be alive.”
Her mother pulled her hand away. “You know nothing about these things.”
“And I’m not only talking about Jews,” Di said. “The German people, too. They should have stood up to Hitler. Just like we have an obligation to tell our government they’re doing the wrong thing.”
Her mother pushed back her chair. “Let’s go, Louie,” she said. “I can’t listen to any more of this. Our daughter has gone crazy.”
Diana pulled the old quilt higher. Her mother had been right. She had gone crazy. But at the time, she saw only the heady excitement of doing something to make the world a better place. She’d been critical of her parents’ fear of challenging authority and calling attention to themselves. She was ashamed to think of her brash na?veté and how she must have hurt them. But back then, she’d been intoxicated by a sense of righteousness.
And by him.
She closed her eyes and saw a flash of white against the darkness. And she remembered how it had felt, watching him.