this girl has water in her lungs. No one knows how she died.”
“What about her tattoo?”
Mom shook her head.
“You got all this from the news?” I finally yelled. My throat clogged.
“I called Tommy.…” She turned back to the television.
Because I’d already lost Juliet, I almost prayed that it was her. I almost willed her long lonely voyage to be over. If someone had starved her and beaten her, there must have come a moment when she’d won before she succumbed to defeated agony by letting life go. I almost prayed that she thought of herself as a hero, having saved me, having taken the devil’s bargain. I almost prayed for all that. But I couldn’t. Because even if there were a chance that Juliet was still out there, running from Tabor, it meant some other father and mother’s child had died. It meant the paper doll chain had been set ablaze once more. Juliet, come back, I pleaded. Come back. Help me fight him.
“I want a second opinion,” I told my mother.
“What?”
“I want Dr. Stephen to have someone else do the autopsy.”
“Allie, you’re beyond the point of rational. I understand—”
“Is there a way to request that legally?” I interrupted. “Can her parents request that legally? To replace Dr. Stephen just this one time?”
“Only if they have some reason to believe he’s incompetent,” my mother said. She choked over the words. “And his brother has cared for Juliet all her life. He has samples of Juliet’s blood and tissue, and her fingerprints as part of the research study.”
“Exactly! The research study. That’s why. I think he may be too … close to it. And he’s coming all the way back from South America. He’ll be exhausted.”
“It’s because Garrett gives you the creeps. That’s why. But Stephen is the nicest guy in the world. He’s crushed over this. They all are, baby.”
“Mom, please, just ask someone, okay?”
In the end, it was Dr. Stephen who asked for assistance, from an FBI pathologist. Juliet was still a minor when she died, and foul play or kidnapping was a possibility.
ROB ENDED UP coming over. Angela woke up around two o’clock and got into bed with Rob and me, curling into my body like an oversized shrimp. My mother had told her that a girl had died, but that we were hoping it wasn’t Juliet, and that we would have to wait for the doctors to tell us. Angie knew about Nicola’s death, although she hadn’t known Nicola other than to say hi. What we both knew as the daughters of a nurse was that in the medical world, good news travels fast. The morning lasted forever.
The phone rang at six. The three of us sat upright in bed.
Mom said softly, with an almost religious hush, “Thank you. I will tell her.”
But she didn’t have to.
At Ghost Lake, a cordon of Iron Harbor cops blocked the road so that no one could intrude on what was a private family ceremony, with only a few close friends included. Reporters were still on the prowl. Citizens of the town placed cards and wreaths for the Siroccos in their mailbox, as they’d done at Nicola’s grave.
No one’s funeral is ever held at ten o’clock at night, so this was my first. It was Rob’s first, too. The Siroccos insisted on including us. Juliet wasn’t even going to be buried at Torch Mountain Cemetery. Her ashes were going to be scattered over the water at one of the places she loved the most, by those she loved the most.
Only as I took a step out on the old pier did the reality of the past two days sink in. It had been a flurry of anger and disbelief and sleeplessness. But there was no argument to be made anymore.
DNA tests had proved that the body found in the river was Juliet’s. And Dr. Stephen’s report was supported by the FBI medical examiner. Even a Tabor couldn’t have bribed the federal government. The report pointed out the coldness of the water as a factor in how well-preserved the body still was, and the loss of teeth possibly accidental, as a result of gum damage due to rapid weight loss. She had died by accident shortly after cutting her hair in a punk crop and dyeing it. No one could explain any of the physical anomalies, other than to suggest that starving herself for a week was a reliable way to dramatically change her appearance quickly, as part of some kind of