to hate Alba forever, as though it were only a moment ago. “He found her letters. But it wasn’t your fault he left. It would have happened eventually,” he says, without any idea of whether or not that is actually true. “They were never really happy together. They were a bit like Charles and Di. He was stepping out on her long before she stepped out on him.”
Alba nods, as if he’s not telling her anything she didn’t already know. She bites her lip, staring down at the table and plucking again at the edge of her sleeve.
“And he disappeared so he could punish her, didn’t he?” Alba asks.
This time Edward nods. “Yes,” he says, trying to look her in the eye; but she won’t look at him. “I know we should have told you everything,” he says softly. “I know it’s unforgiveable that we didn’t. But I’m hoping, I really hope that you might be able to, one day—”
“So he could frame her for murder and ruin her life, right?” Alba looks up.
“Yes,” Edward admits. Rationally he knows full forgiveness and immediate reconciliation were too much to hope for, but he still couldn’t help wishing for it. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Do you know where he is? Do you know where he went?”
This is the question Edward’s been waiting for. And he had promised himself he would tell Alba the truth when it came, but now he can’t. It will hurt her. It might make her run and he’ll do anything to prevent that, even betray her trust again.
“No, I don’t,” Edward says, hating himself for it. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
His words hang in the air: black, the color of dishonesty. Alba looks at her brother, frowning slightly, wondering what he’s keeping from her now. They fall into small talk, Alba, not being very good at confrontation in general, and not knowing how to confront Edward in a way that’d get him to tell the truth, and Edward, being only too happy to take refuge in safer subjects. After a while Alba stands, excusing herself with imaginary errands. Edward walks with her to the street and as they part, they almost hug. But Alba steps back at the last moment, and Edward catches himself just before he stumbles.
—
“We’ve made a decision,” Nora says.
“An executive decision,” Sue adds. “So it’s not up for discussion.”
“Exactly,” Nora says, “that’s what that means.”
“Oh, hush,” Sue says. “I was just being clear. Anyway, she’s foreign, so she might not know that.”
Carmen watches the two of them going back and forth. She was late for choir practice and found Tweedledum and Tweedledee bickering good-naturedly next to the altar. She waits for a pause in the action before speaking up.
“Okay, what is your decision?”
“You’re to go on alone,” Nora declares quickly, leaving Sue with her mouth open.
“Alone?” Carmen asks. “Where?”
“You might have put it a little more gently,” Sue says. “At the television audition, my dear. We’ve decided that we would only hold you back. You must have the stage all to yourself—”
“Unencumbered by two fat ladies,” Nora adds, “however magnificently well dressed we might be.”
“Let it go, Pavarotti,” Sue hisses. “We’ve already discussed this.”
“I’m not that large!” Nora retorts. “I lost three pounds last week, I—”
“You want me to do it all by myself?” Carmen asks, trying hard to keep her voice steady. “No, I can’t. This was all your idea in the beginning anyway. I would never do it without you.”
“But you must,” Sue says. “It’s the chance of a lifetime. You simply must.”
Nora walks to Carmen and takes her hand. “You have a gift, my dear, a gift from God.” She squeezes Carmen’s hand as tightly as she did the first time they met. “And when you sing that is your gift back to Him.”
“To us all,” Sue adds.
“Exactly,” Nora nods. “And it’s up to you to share it with as many people as you possibly can.”
“Which brings us back to the beginning,” Sue says.
“Yes.” Nora smiles. “And the fact that you must do this alone.”
—
Edward forces himself to walk all the way to the train station, though he’d much rather have caught a taxi. It’s a pathetic effort at self-punishment, he knows, but it will have to do for now. He thinks of his sister, how her distrust of him hung in the air, how she couldn’t look him in the eye, how she wouldn’t let him touch her—and how much he deserved it all. He’d helped to ruin her childhood. He’d been