“Hey,” I say.
He rubs his eyes. He looks tired, and I feel bad for having kept him awake half the night with my restless sleep. “Hey.”
“I was wondering if you could stick around the house with Liam. I… I need to go out.”
“Where?”
“I need to take care of some things at the newspaper.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily. I never told Jason that Brian fired me. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Okay.” Jason slips a shirt over his head. “Take your time. I’ll take care of things here.”
He accepts my lie so easily, I feel guilty. Jason is so trusting. He believes me, and he believes Liam. Why am I the cynical one?
I go past him into the bathroom to use the shower. Before I jump in, I stare at myself in the mirror. A week ago, I would have said that I had aged gracefully, but now I look ten years older than my age. These have been the worst few days of my life. When Liam got kicked out of kindergarten, it felt like the worst tragedy ever. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that time.
I squint in the mirror at my brown eyes, which now have purple circles underneath. They are the same browneyes that Liam has. I say that Liam looks like my father, but really, he looks like me.Ilook like my father.
Sometimes I wonder what else the three of us have in common.
What am I capable of?
Chapter Fifty-Three
ERIKA
Iget in my car by nine in the morning, and I’m on my way to pay a visit to Marvin Holick. Given I haven’t called him, I recognize there’s a reasonable chance he might not be home. But I go anyway. I need some time alone, and the drive will clear my head.
You think I’m a murderer.
I can’t stop picturing Liam’s face as he said those words. He looked hurt. I always believed nothing ever got to my son but maybe I’m wrong. But I have this feeling that his hurt expression is yet another act. After all, Hannah and Jason believe he is innocent, and I’m the only one who can still see through him. He needs to win me over.
While I’m driving, my phone rings. I see my mother’s name pop up on the screen and I almost let it go to voicemail. But at the last moment, I send the call to the carspeakers.
“Hi, Mom,” I say.
“Erika!” Mom is talking much too loud, which is what she usually does on the phone. She doesn’t seem capable of controlling the volume of her voice when she’s on a cell phone. “Why didn’t you call me? I just found out from Jeanne during our bridge game that my grandson was arrested!”
“It’s okay. He’s home now.”
“Okay? You know what they’re saying he did, right?”
“Nope. I have no idea what crime my son has been charged with.”
“Erika…”
“We’re dealing with it, Mom. He’s got a good lawyer.”
“But… God, they’re saying that he…”
“It will be okay,” I say with confidence that I don’t feel. But at least I can keep my mother from worrying. “It’s all blown out of proportion. Our lawyer says it will be fine.”
“He does?”
“Yes.” If by fine, I mean the lawyer thinks he’s guilty and should show the police where the body is. But I already lied to my husband today. Might as well lie to my mother too. “Anyway, I’ve got to go.”
“Will you call me if anything else happens?”
“Yes.”
