everywhere. And then we returned and Grandma—it did not seem the right time. I suppose I still was not sure you wanted me instead of Filip.”
My legs were weak and I felt the tears behind my eyelids. “You have to understand. I ruin everything.”
“Not true.” He rested his cheek against the top of my head.
I put my heart on my tongue, wise or not. I laid my trembling hand against the side of his neck. I had to give him the chance to say no to the real me. “I always try so hard and yet, it all goes wrong. No one really likes me. Not after they know me, anyway. One colleague took me out to lunch just so she could let slip that everyone thought I was sleeping my way to the top. When you are a woman, people always assume success comes from your bedroom and not your boardroom skills.” Despite myself, my voice cracked. “Before then, I had thought I was getting along well with people at work. I believed I had friends.” How I wanted that to be true. “After that, I learned to keep my distance.”
Lukas drew back to look at me. His eyes were tender.
“Then my marriage went down the drain.”
He caressed the side of my face with his callused palm. “Did you really think any of this would matter to me?”
Despite myself, I sniffed and sagged against him as I struggled to find the right words. “My own parents did not want me, Lukas. I never fit in anywhere. The only people who ever truly cared about me were Grandma and Amy. Now Grandma is gone and Amy is grown. She no longer needs me. Amy got the love and I got the success, but I do not have anything anymore.”
He bent down, his lips a breath away from my own, and said in a hoarse whisper, “You have me.”
Chapter 28
Amy
Monday, May 16
Ma and Pa are scheduled to arrive this afternoon. I pretend to have a migraine from all the stress to avoid picking them up from the airport. It’s not far from the truth. In the bathroom mirror, I see that my eyes are sunken into their sockets, the skin around them red and abraded from my constant rubbing. My lips look as if a layer of white wax has melted over them, now flaking off. Lukas will accompany Helena and Willem. This is my chance to look through his apartment without anyone around.
As soon as the car leaves the driveway, I race over to his apartment with the spare key in my hand. I decide to start my search upstairs. I am surprised by how neat it is for such a shaggy, unshaven person. I head for the desk, which supports a massive monitor attached to a laptop. I hesitate before opening the first drawer. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve broken into my cousin’s apartment and suspect him of having something to do with Sylvie’s death, maybe even of murdering her. I am ridiculous.
Frantic with energy, I search his desk anyway—cables, an old cell phone, flash drives. Papers that look like invoices he’s sent to people, with his name in big black letters in the letterhead. Everything’s in Dutch. One drawer’s filled with receipts filed in different folders. If I were a real detective, I would figure out something clever from this. He still has a thick paper agenda. I flip through it but can’t read a word. Then I open the laptop and try a couple of passwords: Sylvie’s name and birthday. But they don’t work.
Why did I ever think I could accomplish anything by coming here? Ma and Pa will arrive soon and then we’ll leave for New York and we’ll never know how Sylvie wound up at the bottom of the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal. I choke back a sob and press my hand against my chest. How can this be real? Pull it together, Amy. They’ll be back soon. I tackle the agenda again, this time going through it page by page, checking the days when Sylvie was here.
There, wedged deep into the inner crack of the book, is an irregular slip of yellow notebook paper. It looks like it’s been torn from a larger piece. I pull it out gently with my fingernails and gasp.
It’s Sylvie’s angular, clear handwriting. It’s just her signature, as if this is the end of a note she wrote, but instead of Lee she’s signed her name as Sylvie Tan.