We walk into a small foyer with polished hardwood floors and a giant crystal chandelier. Stairs sit in front of us, and two sitting rooms sit on either side. Each space is painted a different color. The foyer a dark red, the sitting room on the right mustard yellow, and the one on the left forest green.
I pick the yellow room, and they follow me into it.
The room is set up like it’s going to receive guests from a different era. An antique writing desk sits against one wall. A small fireplace against the other. I choose an Empire-style chair, while Marshall and his daughter choose the sofa. We place our food on the oval marble-top table in front of us.
I look at the girl. “My name is Rita,” I say. “I don’t think we properly met last time I saw you.” My smile falters. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned the last time I saw her. That’s a moment this little girl may never want to remember again.
She looks up to her father.
“This is Jasmine,” he says.
The bite I just took gets stuck in my throat. I have to take a giant sip of my drink to get it down without choking. Oh, Heather.
“Hi, Jasmine,” I say in a voice that sounds more like a croak.
Jasmine hops off the sofa and sits on the floor to make it easier to eat, and I follow suit.
“It’s been a long time since I ate fast food,” I say to Jasmine.
She smiles and dips her chicken strip into the side sauce. I pull one of my strips out and do the same. I chew it slowly and swallow. “That could be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
She giggles and looks to her father. She’s looking to him a lot. I know that feeling.
“How did you know we were here?” Marshall says. His arms are crossed over his chest, sitting on the edge of the sofa as if he might bolt at any moment.
I eye Jasmine. “I didn’t. I just saw you in town.”
“And you followed us?”
Jasmine is ignoring us, but I know she’s listening. I was a girl her age once, and I was always listening too.
“I didn’t want to miss a chance for us to talk.” I take another bite. “That’s all,” I add.
His shoulders lower slightly.
Jasmine and I continue to eat, but Marshall leaves his food untouched. When Jasmine finishes, I say, “You can go explore around here if you want. We’re the only people here.”
“Really?” she says, her little eyebrows shooting up. She glances at Marshall again. “Can I?” The look in her eyes reminds me of Heather.Something mischievous and maybe a hint of risk-taking. But Heather never would have asked permission.
Marshall nods, and she runs for the front stairs. He looks at me. “I’m here to get answers about my wife,” he says. “I pulled Jasmine out of school for a few days. I don’t want to leave her right now.”
“I’m here for the same reason,” I say. He starts bagging the trash his daughter left. “Did you know Laura’s real name?” I say.
He shakes his head. “No. I had no idea.”
“You told me in Key Biscayne Laura had demons. What did you mean?”
He stops cleaning up and releases a long sigh. “Laura had nightmares. She drank too much. I knew it was something from her past, but I figured it was that she lost her parents so tragically.”
“So she told you about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she tell you about Poison Wood?”
“No.” He rubs his hands on his jeans. “She told me she had to go to boarding school, but that was it.”
“And after boarding school? Did she talk about that?”
