But did he give me a cake on my birthday?
There was a cake. I can remember it, plain as day. “Happy 18th, Aubrey! With love, Charlie” had been written across it. But I can no longer remember him giving it to me. Helping me blow out the candles. Kissing me on the cheek and digging in, feeding me a bite. That’s what should have happened. But I can’t remember.
“I’m confused,” I mumble. “I need to rest.”
“There’s no time. We only have a few minutes,” Dr. Paulson says. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You have an out. You could be transferred back to America, Aubrey. To a mental hospital, if the judge rules you criminally insane. It’s not much, but it’s your only hope.”
I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t swallow, I want to die. If only Lena were here. My best option is a mental hospital in America. A life confined to a mental hospital, or a life in a Bangkok prison.
It is too much to bear. I lay my head on the table, blinking at the glass window, where policemen, guards, and visitors mill about.
It is a fate worse than death.
But it’s what I deserve. I see it now: Charlie only gave me what I’ve deserved this whole time.
I stare through the window. I blink. I sit up.
“What is it?” Dr. Paulson asks. She sounds surprised. My back is straight; every hair on my neck is standing at attention. One girl in the waiting room looks familiar.
“Is that her?”
Dr. Paulson doesn’t answer.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” I point. “That? There. Her.” I try to stand and barely manage, but my shackles are too heavy for me to take a step forward. I struggle, leaning heavily against my chair.
“Sit back down,” Dr. Paulson orders. One of the guards moves toward me. But the answer is written all over Dr. Paulson’s face. Even before the girl stands up. Even before I see her long mane of thick, black, wavy hair. Even before she turns to the side, her beautiful features illuminating her jaded dark eyes.
Even before I grab the witness statement and tear through the pages to the very end.
Before I make out the signature: Charanya Buajan.
Before I scream, loud and long, and lunge for the window.
They take me away even as I yell, “She did it! She killed Lena,” screaming it over and over, loud and long. But before they do, she turns all the way. She meets my eyes. And she smiles.
31
Lena
I am still alive. Come and find me.
Aubrey will come for me. I feel it. When she does, we’ll make Charlie pay.
Acknowledgements
My sincerest thanks above all to my agent, Stephen Barbara, who has been wonderful in every way: from envisioning a future for Charlie, Lena, and Aubrey in the novel’s inception; to giving me outstanding editorial advice; to being my strongest advocate as well as a terrific friend. Many thanks also to my editor, Margaret Raymo. It’s been an honor to work with someone as dedicated and passionate as you. I am grateful to you for taking a chance on Charlie and for shepherding my story to publication. A big thanks to everyone at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt who worked hard to support this novel and make it beautiful.
My friends went above and beyond for me throughout the revision process. In particular I am grateful to Laura Bernier, and to my writing group for your profound insights in the early stages of the manuscript: Marie Rutkoski (who provided thoughtful comments on several drafts), Jill Santopolo, Eliot Schrefer, and Marianna Baer. You can’t know how much I appreciate your warm welcome into the group and your honest feedback. I am incredibly lucky to have such talented writers by my side.
Thank you to my dear friend Rachel Hutchins, a brilliant author who has read each of my books with zeal and has offered wise insight. You read and caught errors in the latest and most crucial stages of revision, a task few would embrace.
My brother, Alex—also a writer and a passionate reader—read my first draft with his usual intelligent, critical eye. There’s a reason I’ve asked you to read early drafts of every novel I’ve written! Thank you as well to my mom and dad for being consistently devoted readers.
I am enormously grateful to Chris Carboni, who challenged me to see my story in a different way and confront the holes and questions I’d hoped to ignore. Thank you for always setting the highest expectations for me, and for fully believing I can meet them.
Last, thank you to Caroline Donofrio for reading Charlie and loving it, as well as for coming through in the clutch with an author photo I really like.
About the Author
Anne Heltzel was born in Ohio, attended the University of Notre Dame, and earned her MFA from The New School. She is currently an editor at a New York City publishing house, and is the author of Circle Nine and The Ruining (published pseudonymously).
Anne lives in Brooklyn. Visit her at anneheltzel.com or follow her on Twitter: @anneheltzel.