The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (Mara Dyer #1)

“I need to go,” I said, feeling sick. But then another hand clapped my shoulder, and my knees almost buckled.

“Hey, guys,” Daniel said, his voice serious. “Crazy day.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “You don’t look so good, Mara,” Daniel said. His tone was lighter, now, but there was a note of anxiety in it.

I wiped away a strand of hair that stuck to my forehead. “I’m fine. Just feeling a little sick.”

“Right in time for your birthday,” Daniel said, and gave a tight smile. “I’m sure that disappoints you.”

“Your birthday?” Noah looked from me to Daniel.

I shot my brother a look of pure poison. He ignored me. “Mara turns seventeen tomorrow. March fifteenth, the little imp. But she’s weird about it,” Daniel explained, taking off his glasses and wiping something from the lens. “She gets all mopey every year, so it’s my brotherly duty to distract her from her birthday ennui.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Noah said immediately. “You’re off the hook.”

Daniel gave Noah a broad smile. “Thanks, bro, you’re a sport.” They exchanged a fist bump.

I couldn’t believe my brother did that to me. Now Noah would feel obligated to do something. I wanted to punch them both in the face, and puke.

“All right,” Daniel said, putting an arm around me. “I think I’d better take Mara home. Unless you feel like throwing up in Noah’s car instead?” Daniel asked me. I shook my head.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven,” Noah said to me, holding my gaze as Daniel led me away. “There are some things I need to say.”





43


WHEN DANIEL AND I ARRIVED BACK AT the house, my father’s open accordion files were uncharacteristically strewn all over the dining room table. We heard the sounds of our parents arguing before we even shut the door. I motioned to Daniel to close it quietly.

“I think you need to ask for a hearing.”

“Opening arguments are Monday, Indi. Monday. And there’s an emergency evidentiary hearing right before that. The judge is not going to let me withdraw. There’s just no way.”

What happened?

“Call Leon Lassiter, then. Ask him to fire you. Tell him you’ll get him a referral. The judge might allow a continuance if he does. He’d want that, right?”

“I doubt it. He’s keen to get this over with.” I heard my father sigh. “You really think Mara’s that bad?”

Daniel and I locked eyes.

My mother didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Nothing’s happened since the burn,” Dad said.

“That we know about.”

“You think there’s something going on?”

“Have you seen her lately, Marcus? She’s not sleeping. I think things are worse for her than she lets on. You being in the middle of a murder trial is not helping.”

“Is it worth me being disbarred?”

My mother paused. “We can move back to Rhode Island if that happens,” she said quietly.

I expected my father to laugh. Or to give an exasperated sigh. Or to say anything except what he actually said.

“All right,” my father said, without pause. “I’ll call Leon and let him know I’m out.”

My stomach twisted with guilt. I made a move toward the kitchen, but Daniel grabbed my arm and shook his head silently. I narrowed my eyes to slits.

Trust me, he mouthed. We both stood stone-still as my father spoke.

“Hello, Leon? It’s Marcus, yes, how are you? I’m not so great, actually.” He then proceeded to give him the rundown. I caught the words “unstable,” “traumatic,” and “psychiatric care.” My eyes bored into Daniel’s head.

After a few minutes, my father hung up the phone.

“Well?” My mother’s voice.

“He’s thinking about it. He’s a good guy,” my father said in a low voice, as my mother banged some cabinets open.

Daniel beckoned me close. “Listen to me,” he whispered. “We’re going to go in there, and you are going to act like this has been the best day of your life. Say nothing about Morales, okay? I’ll handle it.”

I didn’t even have a chance to respond before Daniel closed the door behind us in one exaggerated movement. People probably heard the slam in Broward.

My mother’s head popped out of the kitchen. “Hey, guys!” she said all too cheerfully.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, plastering a false smile on my face myself. I was queasy and upset and guilt-ridden and having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that this was my life. We walked into the kitchen to find my father sitting at the table. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and he looked thinner than usual. “Well, if it isn’t my long-lost children,” he said, smiling.

I wiped my clammy forehead and moved to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“How was your day, kid?”

Daniel gave me a loaded look from over his shoulder.

“Great!” I said, with too much enthusiasm.

“Mara’s been helping me plan Sophie’s surprise party,” Daniel said, opening the refrigerator.

Oh?