police from questioning a patient. That responsibility is yours.”
“Have you seen him? He’s a mess. Nothing he says makes any sense.”
“Look. He was talking to a nurse, and the nurse says he called her Nic, and he kept mentioning a missing girl. That he knew what happened. She had to report it, you see.”
I fought to keep the surprise from my face, but a wave of nausea rolled through, working its way from my stomach to my throat. “No, don’t you see? If he thought someone else was me, then he already didn’t know what he was saying. Don’t you see the fallacy in your logic? Nothing he says makes any sense.”
“On the contrary, your father is a very smart man. There’s always truth in there somewhere. Maybe you should ask him. Ask him about the missing girl, see what he says.”
“Were you there?” I asked.
She took a moment to compose herself, and I recognized her pause as a tactic Everett would use. Be calm, calm the situation. Keep the emotion low, grasp the upper hand. “No. He insisted it be private. They are the police, after all. My hands are tied.”
I pushed back from the table. When I got angry, I couldn’t stop the tears. As if the two emotions were all tangled up in each other. And that made me angrier, since I seemed weak when I wanted to seem confident and demanding, like Everett. The best I could muster was the grand gesture of storming out of the room.
* * *
IT TOOK OVER AN hour for Dad to recognize me, and I sat in his room the whole time, waiting it out. Then it all seemed to click. He looked at the picture on the wall and me on the guest chair in the corner. “Nic,” he said, fingers drumming against the surface of his dresser. “Nic, your friend. Your friend’s brother. Did you know he’s a cop? I didn’t know—”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’ll take care of it. Tell me what he asked. Tell me what you said.” I stood and closed the door, and he was watching me from the sides of his eyes.
“About that girl. That girl who disappeared.”
I shivered. “You don’t have to answer. It was ten years ago, and Mark probably doesn’t even remember—”
“No, not Corinne. I mean, yes, her. But also. The other. The other girl. The . . .”
“Annaleise Carter? You couldn’t possibly be a witness. You’ve been in here for . . .” I cleared my throat. “You were here when she went missing.”
“How long, Nic? How long have I been in here? It’s important.”
I paused. “About a year.”
He sucked in a breath. “I’m late.”
“Dad, what did they ask?” I said, trying to keep his focus.
“They wanted to know if I knew her well. And your brother. Always your brother. He never should’ve done that.” He stared at the side of my face as if he could see the mark Daniel left ten years earlier. As if it happened just a moment ago. I felt the sting rise to the surface like a memory, and I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek, expecting to taste blood. The swing of his arm that had sentenced him to constant suspicion. “And if I thought they were related. Corinne and Annaleise. Yes. That’s what he wanted to know. There’s too much in that house, Nic.”
“There’s nothing in the house, Dad. I promise.”
“There’s plenty,” he said. “I need to . . . I keep memories. A record, to help my mind, a—”
The nurse opened the door. “Mrs. Addelson wants him evaluated by the doctor. Come on, Patrick,” she said to him without making eye contact with me.
He stood and leaned down as he passed, his heavy hand resting on my shoulder. “With the skeletons,” he whispered. “Get it. Get it first.”
* * *
I SPENT THE RIDE home calling people who didn’t pick up the phone. Daniel was at work, on site somewhere. Tyler was probably busy at work, too. Everett didn’t pick up but sent me a text after saying he was stuck in a meeting and would call later.
When I pulled into the driveway, Laura was waiting on the front porch, leaning back on her elbows, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden steps.
Something was wrong. We didn’t have a random-drop-in relationship. We hadn’t spoken since the baby shower. And what kind of news couldn’t she give over the phone? I held my breath as I walked toward the steps, my heart