I stared at Marcelle, my mind white with anger. I had never talked about my childhood with anyone but my siblings and that doctor. Each time I shared those pieces of my past, I had to fight to remember I was safe now, that I had escaped. And now Marcelle knew. Probably Trieu. Certainly Khoi. I hated her. I hated her with more passion than I’d felt for any human besides my parents.
“But the worst of it,” she said, leaning in and whispering, “was the baby. What was she called, again? Oh, never mind, I remember. Eleanor. Baby Eleanor. She wasn’t quite right at birth, was she? Mongolism? Was that why your father drowned her in the lake? I can’t imagine what it was like for you to watch her die. You were the one who telephoned the police, right? And testified against your own father. I was able to find a little newspaper clipping from that, too. From your hometown periodical, of all things. As I said, I was in America years ago. I still have many friends there. But you never had many friends, did you? Who would want to be friends with such a damaged little girl? With a Holland? Even her own mother never loved her. But maybe that was due to madness, too. There’s mental illness around every corner with you.”
I felt the tears forming, but I would not let them fall.
“‘Complicit.’ Isn’t that what you said on the stand?” she said softly. “She never hugged you. Never comforted you. Encouraged him, you said.”
I stared at her hateful face. Like Trieu—Hoa. A woman I once found so beautiful, turned hideous.
“But then that woman found her way to Paris. Dorothy, wasn’t it?” she spat out. “Like a little country chicken swimming over to France to deliver Victor the news. The truth about the trash he’d married. How much does he know, Jessie? Does he know that your parents are alive? You told that doctor that he doesn’t. He doesn’t know your mother is a muttering lunatic, a pariah in your hometown, and he can’t possibly know about your father. I’d keep that a secret, too. Does he know how much of his money you send to that gaggle of siblings?”
“Who are Sinh and Anne-Marie?” I asked, pinching my eyes closed again.
“Just two more people whose lives the Michelins ruined. That’s what it seems like you were put on earth to do, doesn’t it? Ruin lives and deceive people. Build a life based on lies. You know, Caroline was right. To achieve all this,” she said, smirking, “you really must be quite gifted in the sexual arts.”
She paused, then lifted her hand as if to slap me in the face. When I flinched, she started to laugh. And at that moment, I cracked.
I lunged at her and grabbed her by her neck, as forcefully as I could, squeezed with all the muscle I had, and pulled her with me into the swimming pool, holding her head underwater.
Marcelle was much taller than me, and certainly stronger, but I had the element of surprise on my side.
She thrashed her arms and legs, trying to find her footing, trying to grab my arms to free herself, but she was already getting weak from the lack of oxygen. The next thing to go was the muscles in her neck. She had tried to push her head out, to break through my hands, but that bobbing motion was weakening.
I watched as her thrashing died down, as her movements started to slow. No one would blame me for her death. It was the easiest crime a person could commit. All I had to say was that I was hallucinating, under the influence of a psychotic that Marcelle herself had administered to me. When the police checked, it would be all over her home.
After a few minutes, Marcelle’s legs were no longer moving, and her dark hair was floating out around her head, which had become quite easy to hold now that it was barely moving. Her hair looked like a beautiful black halo, swaying in the water like algae.
How long had I been holding her down? Five minutes? Longer? I instinctively looked down at my watch, but my arms were still submerged in water. A person could stay underwater for quite a long time and still live. Fifteen minutes. But after ten minutes, brain damage was very likely. It was something I’d thought about for years—ever since