“We don’t know,” my mom said softly. “He wasn’t—he was—gone—when the police got there. They want to ask you some questions, when you’re ready.”
What about Jude? What about Jude?
My mother closed her eyes. “Jude is dead, Mara.”
I must have spoken out loud. For a second my heart threatened to explode with joy.
“He died in the asylum.”
She didn’t understand. “No. No.”
“The building collapsed.”
I remembered her saying those same words in another hospital room, in another state. A scream was building in my throat.
“Jude didn’t make it. Neither did Rachel or Claire.”
“No, just listen—” My words were frantic and they singed my throat.
“Dr. Kells is going to be here soon,” my mother said, “They’re going to take care of you.”
“What?”
“At Horizons, honey.” My mother sat gingerly on the side of my bed, and her stare broke my heart. “Mara, baby. We love you too much to let you hurt yourself. This family needs you.”
I shook my head violently. “You don’t understand.”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Joan said. Her eyes met my mother’s.
“I didn’t do this,” I pleaded, holding up my wrists. Joan was a blur of motion next to my bed. She took my arms gently but I flinched. Her hold tightened. “Don’t touch me.”
My mother recoiled. Covered her mouth with her hand.
“You’re not listening to me!” White noise pulsed in my ears. I hunched forward.
“We are listening. We are listening, honey.”
The room began to fade. “Just let me explain,” I said, but the words were slurred. I tried to look at my mother but I couldn’t focus, couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Take a deep breath, that’s a good girl.” Someone rubbed my shoulders.
My mother was leaving the room. Joan held my head. “Breathe, breathe.”
They wouldn’t listen to me. Only one person would.
“Noah,” I whispered into the thunder.
And then a shadow darkened the window in the hospital room door. I looked up before the black tide rolled in, praying silently that it would be him.
It wasn’t. It was Abel Lukumi, and he was staring directly at me.
55
THE NEXT TIME I AWOKE, THE TUBES WERE disconnected from my skin. I was still in the hospital—in a different room, though. And I was unrestrained.
A day had passed, I learned. Doctors and nurses and psychologists swept in and out of the room in a blur of tests and questions. I went through the motions, answering them the best I could without looking in their faces and screaming about Jude. About the truth. About Lukumi.
How did he find me?
Why?
I couldn’t let myself think about it because one question led to more and I was drowning in them and I couldn’t panic because I wouldn’t be allowed to see Noah if I did. The drugs and the tubes made me lose it, always, but without them now I could compose my face into an expressionless mask to hide the seething beneath. Good behavior would buy me time, I had to remember. With my father’s help, I was even able to talk with a detective about the cop who was found dead on the dock right by me. He had a stroke, it turned out. Not my fault.
Even if it had been, I wasn’t sure I would have cared. Not then. The only thing I wanted was Noah. To feel his hands on my face, his body wrapped around mine, to hear his voice in my ear, to listen to him say he believed me.
But another day passed, and he still didn’t show up. Joseph didn’t come, either. He wasn’t allowed, Daniel told me when he finally visited. He sat hunched over a can of soda, flipping the tab back and forth.
“What about Noah?” I asked quietly.
Daniel shook his head.
“I need to talk to him.” I tried not to sound desperate.
“You’re on another hold,” Daniel said, his voice weak. “They’re allowing immediate family only. Noah came straight here from the airport when he found out you were admitted and didn’t leave until a few hours ago.”
So he was here and gone. I deflated.
“You scared the hell out of us, Mara.”
I closed my eyes, trying not to sound as infuriated as I was. This was Jude’s fault, but they were the ones who had to pay. “I know,” I said evenly. “I’m sorry.” The apology tasted foul, and I felt the urge to spit.
“I just keep—What if the police found you an hour later?” Daniel rubbed his forehead. “I keep thinking about it.” His voice shook, and he finally broke off the tab on the soda can. He dropped it inside and it landed with a clink.
His words made me wonder. “Who called them?” I asked. “Who called the police?”
“The caller never left a name.”