David lifted his gaze to meet Tim’s. “What’s that?” he said.
“I want you to consider the possibility that your grief, your pain, and your anger over what happened to Kathy might be coloring your perception of all this.”
“What are you saying?”
“Kathy was on antidepressant meds, which the doctors took her off of,” Tim said. “You said she had been seeing a shrink, and then that stopped cold turkey, too. More than that, you said that she . . . well, that she’d changed over the past year, growing paranoid and depressed and—”
“And what?”
“She was headed down a bad path before those doctors ever got to her. Later, at the hospital, you said she’d stopped eating.”
“I know what I said.”
Tim held up one hand. “Please don’t get defensive.”
“I’d just like to know where you’re going with this.”
“David, Kathy killed herself. Those doctors didn’t do it.”
“They allowed it to happen.”
“Maybe they never expected it. You didn’t expect it, either. And you were her husband.”
Briefly, the moths on the windowpane at Tim’s back appeared to form a scowling face. Then their image blurred as David’s eyes grew wet.
“What I’m saying,” Tim went on, “is that there’s nothing here that tells me your daughter is in any danger if she was to cooperate with that Dr. Kapoor guy and the rest of his staff.”
“She’s not a fucking guinea pig,” David said. “Anyway, Kapoor’s dead. Some other guy took over. They’ve been calling my phone, trying to trick me, to get me to turn her over to them.”
“What about what Ellie wants?”
“What about it?”
“Earlier you told me Eleanor wants to turn herself in.”
“Her opinion doesn’t matter,” David said flatly. “I’m her father. I call the shots. And didn’t you just tell me earlier that I’m under no moral obligation to sacrifice my daughter for the rest of the world?”
“That’s true,” Tim said. “But it’s different if it isn’t a sacrifice at all. If it’s just your fear—”
“I’m not turning her in. That’s it, Tim. I won’t do it.”
“Fair enough.” Tim poured himself another shot of moonshine. “Then listen closely to me, okay?” Tim leaned over the table, bringing his face closer to David’s. Close enough that David could smell the moonshine on his breath. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what I’ll do. As long as I’m alive on this planet, I will help you take care of that beautiful little girl.”
“Thank you,” David said.
“Drink with me,” Tim said.
David picked up the glass and tossed the ’shine to the back of his throat. It felt like a fireball blasting down his esophagus.
They drank together, mostly in silence, for the next forty minutes or so. After a time, Tim stood, ambled over to where David sat, and kissed the top of David’s head.
“I love you,” Tim said. “Good night.”
Alone now, David listened to the house settle down all around him. After a time, he got up and wended his way through the halls until he came to his bedroom door. He stood there in the hallway for some time, a headache beginning to work its way up from the base of his neck and over the top of his skull. In the end, he decided he didn’t want to sleep alone.
He went into Ellie’s room and found her snoring gently in the large bed, her profile silvered by the moonlight coming through the bedroom window. The window was cracked open a bit, and a chill autumn breeze filtered into the room, cooling his flesh.
Careful not to wake his daughter, David climbed into bed and curled up behind her. He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of her.
Little Spoon, he thought, draping an arm around her.
59
He dreamed of giant bugs again, and the world was filled with their sound—an unrelenting, mechanical buzzing that followed him out of sleep and into the real world.
Tim stood above him, shaking him awake. The bedroom light was on, and the buzzing was still there. Beside David in bed, Ellie groaned and rolled away from him.
“Get up,” Tim said. “Hurry.”
“What’s that noise?” David said.
“An alarm,” said Tim. “Someone’s coming.”
David sat up and rolled out of bed. Ellie’s eyes snapped open and found him. She asked what was going on. David said he wasn’t sure. He thought he’d misheard Tim. Out in the hallway, Tim shouted for Gany, his voice loud over the buzzing alarm.
“Stay here,” David told Ellie. He got up and hurried out into the hall.
Tim stood at the end of the hallway, opening a closet door. Gany appeared, pulling a sweatshirt down over her head.
“Who’s coming?” David said.
“I don’t know.” Tim took a long gun from the closet and held it out to him. “Take it,” he said.
David took it. It was heavy, cold, and smelled of oil.
Tim placed a hand on Gany’s shoulder. “Go sit with Ellie. Don’t come out unless I tell you to. Understand?”