Leo or Carson or Willa interrupted her—Mom, would you please make me a sandwich? Can I have money for gas? Is it okay if I invite some people over?—she would say, “I know it looks like I’m lying around in anticipation of granting your every wish and desire, but I’m working, so please step off.”
They sit at the table and Leo willfully ignores the shriveled lily petals and the coat of grease from who knows what order of takeout.
“We’re working on your mom’s case,” the Chief says. “I’ve gotten certain pieces of information that need clarifying. We heard about a photograph that a classmate might have sent you and Cruz DeSantis. Do you know what I’m referring to?”
Leo tenses up. The picture. The police know about the picture.
“You’ve seen the photo?” Leo asks.
“No, I haven’t seen it. Cruz won’t talk about it, and the person who sent the photo is off-island and can’t be reached.”
Peter can’t be reached? Leo thinks. Where is he? Rehab is the first thing that comes to mind; Peter Bridgeman is addicted to his Adderall and whatever other drugs he can get his hands on. But if he’d been sent away, Leo would have heard about it from the high-school rumor mill or from Willa. Then Leo remembers that Peter goes to that camp in Maine. How did Leo not think of this before now? He figured Peter didn’t send out the photo to a bunch of people because of what happened to Vivi or because he was so drug-addled he’d forgotten about it or because Cruz had managed to talk some sense into him.
Leo does some quick calculating. The police don’t have access to the picture. The picture could be of anything as far as they knew.
“It’s our belief that someone is trying to…” The Chief stops suddenly. “You and Cruz had a fight the night before your mother died, is that right? You gave him a black eye.”
“It was self-defense,” Leo says, then regrets this and tries to backpedal. “Honestly, I’m not real clear on what happened the night before my mom was killed. I don’t remember getting home.”
“Let me change the topic for a second,” the Chief says. “Have you seen your mother’s running shoes? Did you collect the shoes and clothes from the hospital?”
Leo gags. His mother’s shoes. His mother’s clothes.
“I’m sorry, son, I know this is difficult. But can you please just answer the question? Have you seen the clothes or shoes since your mother died?”
“No,” Leo whispers. “We got the phone back. That was it.”
“Okay.” The Chief places a light hand on Leo’s shoulder.
“I know Cruz ran a stop sign and was speeding before he got to my road.” Leo meets the Chief’s eye for the first time. “If he didn’t hit her, then who did?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” the Chief says. “Thank you for your help. I’ll be in touch.”
The Chief drives away. He left his card and said if Leo had any thoughts about the shoes or the clothes to call his personal cell phone, not the station.
Leo goes up to his bedroom and closes the door. He imagines Cruz being arrested, arraigned, indicted, sentenced, jailed. He imagines the strong brick foundation that Cruz built to support his future crumbling.
He thinks of Cruz poking him hard in the chest, an imitation of Joe DeSantis when Joe wanted to get a point across. You need to face your truth.
Face my truth? Leo thinks. He’s suddenly so angry that he punches the wall; his fist goes straight through the plaster. His mother would be furious about this—but his mother is dead. There’s no one left to care if he punches holes in the walls.
“Mom!” he cries out. “Mama, where are you?”
He strides over to Carson’s room. The door is wide open—of course, because she’s not sleeping there. She’s sleeping in Vivi’s room. Vivi’s room is at the other end of the hall, door closed tight, because Vivi alone has an air-conditioning unit.
Leo opens the door and goes over to Vivi’s nightstand. He pulls out the drawer and finds what he’s looking for—a sandwich baggie full of pills. He wants Ativan or something stronger; he doesn’t care what. He needs to escape his head.
He shakes four of the pills into his palm. Then a fifth.
Vivi
“I’m using one of my nudges,” Vivi says. “And you can’t stop me.”
Martha purses her lips. She’s wearing a scarf knotted around her neck, the same one she had on the first time they