Days have passed since the arrest. Gia has remained in her room, eating only when they take her food, and showering every other day. She refuses to speak to any of them. Even Raj has been stonewalled, Gia’s despair shutting her off from those closest to her. Marin is tempted to march in and throw off the covers, order her daughter to get up and return to the living, but she holds back. She will allow Gia five days to go through whatever process she needs to before demanding she return to school and her life. Five days feels benevolent, more than necessary. But Raj insists. A full week off to mourn the man who beat her.
On the last day of Gia’s self-imposed exile, Marin is at her desk working when the call comes in. Sleep has eluded her. Instead of wasting time tossing and turning, she spends every night working. When her body demands a reprieve, she lies down on the sofa in her office and closes her eyes for a few minutes. But thoughts of Gia cause her heart to race and adrenaline replaces the exhaustion, forcing her to return to work or chance a panic attack.
“Yes?” Marin answers the phone on the first ring, without bothering to check the caller ID.
The detective on the line asks what would be the best time for some questions he has for Gia. Anytime, Marin answers. They agree to after lunch. Leaning back in her chair, Marin stares at the flickering computer screen, the blue haze creating a halo over her desk. The thought of Adam behind bars gives Marin a sense of completion, of closure.
“Raj?” She leaves her office to search for him. Finding him in his office on the other side of the house, she closes the door behind her. “A detective is coming to ask Gia questions.”
“What kind of questions?” he demands.
He has tried over a dozen times to talk to Marin privately about what happened. How the steps played out that resulted in Adam’s arrest at the school and Gia’s subsequent trip to the hospital. Each time, Marin sidestepped him, her answers vague and quick. When he pushed, she pushed back, demanding to know why it mattered when the end result was what they both wanted. Raj finally gave up, but a silence descended between them, leaving them farther apart than they already were.
“I don’t know, Raj,” Marin bites, lack of sleep causing her to lose patience. “I’m not a psychic.”
“Yet, you seem to have all the answers,” Raj murmurs, returning to his seat behind the desk, dismissing her.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just surprised you thought to include me in this when you failed to in everything else.”
“If that’s your way of trying to say thank you for saving your daughter from the boy who was beating her . . . you’re welcome.” Marin slams out of the office. Taking the steps two at a time, she throws open Gia’s door and hits the light switch with more force than necessary. “Get up,” she orders, pulling the covers off like she had yearned to days ago.
“What?”
Gia’s hair is tangled, the brown and gold strands in knots. Her face is swollen from tears, and she has lost weight. Her eyes are empty, searching for something, finding nothing. Marin, taken aback at the sight of her daughter’s state, pauses, wondering what the right thing to do is. But conditioning from years of practice takes over, and she defaults to what feels normal.
“A detective is coming to ask you some questions.” Marin starts to rifle through Gia’s drawers, pulling out a respectable top and jeans. Walking into the adjoining bathroom, she turns on the shower to warm. “You need to get dressed.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” Gia says, lying back down and pulling the covers over her head. “Leave me alone.”
The words trigger a reaction Marin is too tired to censor. Pulling the covers off again, Marin raises her voice. “Get up now.” Each word spoken slowly and precisely, leaving no room for argument. “Do not push me.”
“Why?” Gia asks, throwing her feet over the bed. “Will you slap me again?”
“I already apologized for that,” Marin says, refusing to allow her daughter to provoke her. “You will look respectable in front of the detective.”