“Yes,” my mom said. “Freddy’s absolutely right.”
I paused, letting their words sink in. I looked from Freddy’s face to Mom’s, and what I saw there was new and unfamiliar. Their eyebrows arched with the same concern. Had they always had these expressions? Was it just that I’d never looked properly?
“I’ve been thinking the past few days about the choices I’ve made lately, and . . . I’m scared. I don’t know how else to put it.” My nose ran and I wiped it with the back of my sleeve. Freddy pulled his handkerchief from the breast pocket of his blazer and passed it to me.
“Are you talking about sleeping with HP?” he said. “Because if you ask me, it’s totally understandable. A mistake, for sure. But now you’ve got it out of your system.”
“We didn’t sleep together. He doesn’t even want me. Probably never did. Oh, God, I’m such an idiot.” I thought for a moment about the rich luxury of HP’s sheets, the quiet of the house before it all went wrong. Pressure built at my temples like heat.
“You are not an idiot. You’re my girl,” Mom said, running a hand over my hair and tucking a strand behind my ear.
I thumped my thigh with a clenched fist. “I need it to stop. I can’t live like this anymore—obsessed with all the wrong things. Why can’t I be like everyone else, just living a normal life?”
Mom took my hand, even though it was damp with misery. “You’re all worked up. You need to calm down.”
“That’s what I’m saying, Mom, there is no calm! I need help. I’ve got spiders in my brain and they won’t stop crawling.”
“Okay, let’s not panic,” Freddy said. “I mean, how many webs can a spider weave? Now you realize something new about yourself. So that’s good. And . . . And I’m right here.” He clasped me to him.
“You’re not helping. It’s not just about HP. It’s about a family I found a place in.” Freddy looked at my mother, and something passed between them that I couldn’t quite catch. “It’s about HP and Olive, being part of their lives. That’s over now. Gone.”
“I can see this is upsetting.” Freddy tapped his forefinger to his lip. “How can we help sort this out for you?”
“I’m just a tragic sad sack, pining after someone who doesn’t want me my whole life. It’s turned me into something I’m not.”
Mom shifted like the sofa was prickly. “Just try to be a bit kinder to yourself, darling,” she said.
“I’m tired.” I blew my nose loudly. “I’m tired of chasing the wrong things.”
“You are being a little bit dramatic,” Freddy said. “And very defeatist. You haven’t turned into something you’re not.”
“Olive thinks I’m the witch in the story.”
“Olive’s five. She thinks monsters live under the bed,” Mom said.
“But she’s right. I’ve wanted to hurt Saskia. I’ve wanted her gone.”
Freddy bit his lip. “I see,” he said. “Perhaps when you get to that level, it might be considered a bit . . .”
“Obsessive,” my mother said. “But, darling, I thought you’d gotten all your serious hate out years ago. Those manifestations you wrote, all that anger put into a jar . . .”
Freddy leaned in close to my neck, still holding his champagne glass. “Do you want me to have Saskia killed? I really don’t like her, either. What a cow.” He pressed the base of the flute against his knee so the crystal rotated, catching new light. “I’ve got all manner of contacts—all of them ex-military-contractor types.”
“What, contract killers?”
“I could have her dead by tomorrow, around midday,” he said. “Say the word—they’ll send me her head in a fancy hatbox. I’ll make a few calls on my hotline. Your mum can help out, right, take care of the sordid details?” He winked at Mom, then at me.
“Of course I could,” Mom chimed. “Anything for my precious, exceptional daughter.”
I rested my chin on my fist. “You’d really do that? For me?”
“My dear, I should have hired a sniper for their wedding,” Freddy said, chuckling. Then he snapped his fingers in disappointment. “Bugger it, that was a chance missed.”
Mom giggled at that.
“You could have hired me. I’d have done it for free,” I said, and that got us all roaring. We laughed and laughed and laughed.
Freddy was the first to calm down. He refilled his glass and took a gulp. “Well, at least we’ve had a good chuckle. And we’ve solved one problem. Quite often with these things you have to name it to tame it.”
Mom nodded. We sat quietly for a moment, everything turning somber again.
“You mustn’t worry, sweetheart,” Mom said. “We’re here for you. We’ll take care of everything. You leave it to us.”
“We love you, Ange. We’re both in your corner. And believe me, we’re excellent people to have on your team.”
chapter
* * *
25
When Tate comes back in, he hangs by the door and stares at me for a few seconds before he speaks. He takes off his tie and hangs it on the back of his chair.
“We’re in trouble,” he says.
I’m so tired I might cry.
“They pulled Saskia out of a lake an hour ago. Dead. That’s the only thing they told me.” Tate clears his throat. “I’m sorry to be the one to pass that on.”
I can’t get another clear thought, so I nod like I’m listening but my brain’s sucking in on itself like mud in a geyser. Every time I inhale, the walls pull closer.
“Let’s prepare ourselves now, Angela. Novak’s coming for you, and we need to be ready.”
I’m trying to steady my head, but I’ve been holding back the truth. I haven’t told a soul. It’s sitting at every edge of me now, ready to spill out: all these hours in this room and I never said once that it was Freddy and Mom who came up with the plan.
“Angela, the only way to exorcise these demons of yours is to take them on full-force. Attack from the front. You need action.” Freddy thumped one fist into the other. “You need to take charge.”
The three of us were still sitting on that couch in Boston, watching the dying light.
“Let’s wipe out this poisonous chapter,” Mom added. “All it takes is letting go. We’ll bury the past, start over and throw the entire book into the fire.” Her eyes glittered. “Everything will be better after that.”
“That’s right,” Freddy echoed, straightening his blazer. “Let the whole sorry thing go. Move on. Begin afresh. All of us.” His sentences punched out like military coordinates. What was I to do but go along with it? Even talking about Saskia and the swirl she’d caused inside me was helpful—admitting to Freddy and Mom that my brain had grown crusty and unwell was like handing over a sickness to be cured. I was no longer alone in the labyrinth. I had allies. Whatever we did together would be our little secret.