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Then Molly leaned forward and put her hand over Sandy’s. And there were the tears in Sandy’s eyes again—seriously? Was this all it took? For some nice, normal-looking woman to be a little bit kind to her, and she totally fell apart?
“Okay,” Sandy said, and that was all she could manage. She nodded and turned toward the window.
“But, Sandy, whatever happened to the baby—and I’m not saying it was you—whoever, whatever was involved. These things don’t just go away, no matter how much you hope they will. And the harder you try to force them down, the harder they push their way back to the surface. I’m saying that from personal experience.” Molly looked sad. “It can help if you tell someone what happened. I can be that person for you, Sandy. And I’m a lawyer—or I used to be a lawyer. I can be your lawyer for the purposes of this. That way no one can make me tell them what you told me. All you have to say is that you want me to be your lawyer.”
“I want you to be my lawyer,” Sandy said.
But that wasn’t what she was thinking. She was thinking: I want you to be my mother.
Sandy hadn’t wanted to go to Ha
The house was basically the nightmare Sandy had dreaded. Nothing fancy, like Aidan’s, but cheerful as all fuck. To-do lists and chore charts and newspaper articles labeled with Post-its and highlighting. There was one of those personalized calendars, with pictures of Ha
“My parents won’t be home for at least an hour and a half, and Cole’s watching TV. If it’s okay with you, could we study here at the table? In case he needs anything?” Ha
“I’m good,” Sandy said. She just wanted to get the whole thing over with and get the hell out of that house. Because it was so fucking hard to breathe in there. It was how Sandy always felt whenever she was anywhere too normal for too long. Like someone was crushing her chest in a vise.
They were about half an hour in when Ha
But Ha
After a few more minutes, Sandy didn’t have a choice. She had to look for Ha
When she peeked out into the living room, Ha
At last Sandy spotted a door with a light on underneath it. The bathroom. “Are you okay?” she called through the door, knocking gently.
Ha
“Ha
Thud, thud, thud, quiet. Thud, thud, thud.
“Hello?” Sandy called more loudly when Ha
Sandy turned the doorknob, waiting for it to be locked. In which case, she’d just go, before Ha
There was no shout. No Ha
Sandy saw the puddle of bright red paint first. It was on the white tile floor, coming from behind the door. She saw it on the toilet, too, as she pushed open the door. More paint. On more of the floor. What the hell was paint doing all over the place? Ha
Not paint. It’s not paint. Sandy was thinking those words before she could figure out what they meant. Not paint. She was still pushing open the door. And there was more and more of it, there was red all over everything.
Blood.
It’s blood.
And then there was Ha
Attached to it was something that looked like a baby, except it was grayish-purple. Covered in blood and white waxy-looking stuff, too. And not moving.
“Holy fuck!” Sandy said, rushing over, slipping on the blood-slicked floor. She grabbed the towel ring, almost ripping it off the wall. “Ha
Ha
“Are you okay?”
“I tried to get the cord off her neck,” she whispered finally. “I did it. I did. But it was so . . . my fingers kept . . .” She stared out. “Slipping. But she was alive for a minute.” Ha
“We have to call an ambulance.” Sandy looked down at her blood-soaked shoes.
“She’s going to kill me.” Ha
“But you’re bleeding.” Sandy pointed toward the floor. Her hands were trembling. “And the—” She was going to say “baby.” But one look at the gray-purple skin and it was obvious that if she’d ever been alive, the baby was long past saving.
“She’s going to kill me.” Ha
All Sandy had was questions. Did Ha
But then, Sandy knew about lies. The weird way they had of seeming just like the truth. And she knew about being scared and feeling so totally alone that you pray you’ll disappear. Sandy looked around at the bloody floor. And again at Ha
But Sandy could do this. She could sweep up all these broken pieces. She could clean up somebody else’s mess, like she’d done for Je