by Cecilia Lyra
Sophie knew about our system. She once asked me what we talked about for so long. A fair question: we did spend entire afternoons with our ears glued to our phones. She dropped hints that Cassie should just call like a normal person. The implication had been clear: there was no need for secrecy at our home. What Sophie failed to grasp was that the secrecy wasn’t for her sake—it was for Katherine’s. It was not unreasonable to assume Katherine knew our number. Cassie didn’t want her mother checking the phone bill, counting dozens of calls to Sophie’s number. She’d assume they were from our dad.
We had a secret to protect, together. Until we didn’t. Until I traded that secret for another one—this one wholly mine. A darker, shameful secret born out of spite and envy.
A secret that could cost Cassie her life.
“Do you blame me?” I ask.
Daniel looks up at me. His eyes are red and swollen. We’ve been sitting in a pair of blue chairs for over twelve hours. It’s morning, has been morning for a while. We haven’t said a word to each other, or to anyone else other than the doctor, who was here hours ago. We were told to go home. Promised a phone call when she woke up. We both refused.
“No.” His voice is hoarse.
“You should.”
“I did when I first heard. Now I just…” He lets out a heavy sigh as his shoulders drop. He has the look of a defeated man. “I just want her to be OK.”
“I do, too.”
He doesn’t say anything back. Why would he?
“She’ll be really glad you’re here,” I say. “When she wakes up.” When. It’s all I have for now: hope. It isn’t lost on me that I am waiting for someone who doesn’t want to see me. At least I’ll have the memories of this past month to keep me going. It’s not much, but it’s something.
“You want to know who I blame?” He looks up at me.
“Who?” I ask. I expect him to say my dad. He’s been discharged. Andrea told me. He didn’t try to find me, which is a relief. I’ve already called Sophie and told her all about his plan to try to take our inheritance away. To her credit, she’s agreed not to take his calls until I’m back in Boston and her and I can have a proper conversation. I’ll need to establish better boundaries with Sophie. She also promised to stop spreading the rumor that Cassie is seeing a married man—I insisted it was not true and suggested that if she wasn’t careful, she could face a defamation suit.
“Myself,” Daniel says.
“Oh, Daniel, whatever for?”
“I should’ve talked to her when I had the chance. I knew she was upset about something. She was weird over the phone. Distant. It’s why I decided to surprise her, show up a day earlier.”
“To tell her you left Tatiana?”
Daniel shakes his head. “No. To get her to understand why I need more time.”
“She wouldn’t,” I say. Cassie knows what she wants—and doesn’t settle for anything else. It makes her stubborn and difficult and really, really picky. But it also makes her strong. The strongest person I know.
“Do you know about my daughter?” Daniel asks.
“I do.”
Daniel nods like he expected this. “So you understand how complicated my situation is. I could lose her. Not just legally. Tatiana could make my daughter feel like I’m not her dad.”
I consider this for a moment. I may not have children of my own, but I’ve wanted them for as long as I can remember. I can feel it in my bones, the love I have stored for my future kids. A love more powerful than anything else. Like the love Nana felt for us.
“Then you should never leave,” I say.
“But I will,” he says, his tone insistent. “I just need time. Tatiana has promised me an amicable divorce. I just have to wait until Labor Day.”
“The party in Nantucket,” I say. “I know.”
A sad smile from Daniel. “She told you everything.”
“We’re sisters.”
“No, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m glad she did. She’s usually so guarded, so private. I’m glad she has you again.”
Had—past tense. She’ll never have me in her life again. Not after this. But now is not the time. This isn’t about me.
“She thinks Tatiana is stalling,” I say. “And I don’t know your wife, but I agree.” I pause to consider what I’m about to say next. If Cassie would want me to. I feel like she would. “She called Cassie.”
Daniel looks at me. “Who did?”
“Tatiana. She called Nana’s house.”
“Why didn’t Cassie tell me?” he’s whispering now, his mouth slack.
“Tatiana said you’d had an affair before. She said she was calling to warn Cassie. The timing was awful, too. Cassie was upset because you’d just told her about the party. And Cassie was going to tell you, but she wanted to do it in person.”
“She doesn’t believe Tatiana, does she?”
“She doesn’t know what to believe.” And then: “She has doubts.”
“About me?” A flash of panic in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“But she knows how much I love her.”
“But it’s hard to believe that when you’re still living with your wife. It’s been hard on her, Daniel. Really hard. She’s never had doubts before. The way she talked about how much she loved you was so…all-consuming. She described your relationship to me like a marriage. A happy marriage, stable and comfortable and loving. But then you blindsided her with this decision. She didn’t know if you were having second thoughts or if there was something else she was missing.”
Daniel runs an open palm through his face, shaking his head. “I had no idea,” he says, under his breath. “I really messed up.” He sighs heavily. “I take it all back, Julie. I’ll leave Tatiana now. This very second. I just need Cassie to be OK.”
An idea occurs to me. One that will make Cassie’s day when she wakes up. Something I can do for her, even if she never knows about it.
“Do you mean it?” I ask.
“I do.” He says it with conviction.
“Then come with me.”
Daniel’s fingers are steady as he makes the call. I’m sitting next to him, holding my phone on my open palm. Recording.
“Hello?” Tatiana’s voice on the other end of the line is sated, sleepy.
“It’s me,” he says. “We need to talk.”
“I’m busy. What do you want?”
“I’ll be brief. I can’t wait until Labor Day to file for divorce. I’m really sorry. But it’s something I have to do now. I hope you can understand.”
Her sigh is impatient. “I wasn’t really asking, Daniel.”
“I’m going to file for divorce on Monday. I hope we can do this amicably. For the sake of our children.”
“And Angie? Are you going to tell her you’re not her dad, too?” There’s a sinister calm in her voice.
“Tatiana, please don’t do this. I’m her dad. I love her. All I want is for us to get along. Our marriage has been over for a very long time. There’s no sense in dragging this out. I want us to get along. Co-parent our children together.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but let me be clear: you can either wait until after Labor Day or I will drive up to Angie right now and tell her that her daddy isn’t really her daddy. I’ll tell her you’re leaving us because she’s a bastard. Your call.”
I cover my mouth to muffle the sound of my gasp.
Daniel seems wounded, but unsurprised. I watch him take a deep breath. “You’ll be hurting our daughter if you do that.”
“No. You’ll be hurting her. Look. Feel free to fuck around with Cassie. I don’t give a damn what you do, as long as you’re discreet. But I am not going to be humiliated in front of my friends.”
“This is blackmail, Tatiana.”
“And I’m supposed to care because…?”
“Because I’m recording this.”
A beat. And then another. I make a spinning motion with my hands, urging him to go on. We ant
icipated she’d go silent when he told her about the recording. We practiced.
“This conversation is being recorded. If you purposefully inflict psychological harm on our child, I will show this to a judge and ask for sole custody. For Angie’s protection.”
“You can’t record someone without their consent. It’s illegal.”
Daniel’s face turns white. This we did not prepare for.
“I-I don’t…” he stammers.
Tatiana snickers.
“That isn’t true,” I say. “New York State only requires one-party consent. Daniel, do you consent?”
Daniel shoots me a panicked look. I motion for him to say yes.
“I do.” He clears his throat.
“Then this recording is legal and admissible in court,” I say.
“Who is this?” Tatiana demands, her voice low.
“This is one of Mr. O’Riley’s attorneys.” I try to remember how Patrick sounds when he’s in a conference call: an eerie blend of threatening and calm. Much like Tatiana, come to think of it.
“It’s up to you, Tatiana,” Daniel says. “You can either agree to an amicable divorce or have this used against you in a court of law. Your call.”
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” she retorts, and then the line goes dead.
Daniel exhales loudly, like he’s been holding his breath all along.
“That was…” he pauses and looks at me. “How did you know to say that?”
I don’t want to tell him that I saw it on TV, on a rerun of The Good Wife. Especially since that show takes place in Illinois—not New York.
“Do you think it worked?” I ask.
“Maybe? She sounded scared.” A pause. He gives me a tired smile. “But even if it didn’t, I have that recording. I’ll show Angie if I have to.”
I send a silent prayer to Nana that Angie never has to listen to that.
“Craig?” Daniel says.
I shake my head, confused. What about Craig? And then I follow Daniel’s eyes. Craig is standing at the door, looking at me expectantly.
“You came back,” I say. Yesterday he had to leave to relieve his friend who had been babysitting Kiki and Ben.
“I just got here. Mrs. Bunsen and Mandy came over to look after the kids,” he says, hurriedly. “Jul, I ran into Andrea outside. She was looking for you.” He swallows. “Cassie woke up.”
Daniel and I both jump to our feet. The three of us rush to room 312. I stop outside the door, grabbing Daniel’s arm. “I can’t go in. I don’t want to upset her.”
Daniel nods somberly. He doesn’t tell me I’m wrong.
“Tell her I love her,” I say. “Tell her I love her more than anything in this world.”
“I will,” he promises.
And then he goes in.
Sixty-Four
Cassie
Saturday, July 28th
My bare feet beat on the white ceramic floors, seconds ticking on a clock.
Thump, thump, thump.
I breathe in the cool air. My mouth is dry. My eyes scan the hallways, sterile and white. But I don’t see her. I don’t know where she is.
I keep running. Thump, thump, thump.
In a room: my father. He’s talking to a man with a stethoscope around his neck, a doctor. My father’s face is red. Everything in this room is red. He’s shouting. Cursing. Calling out my mother’s name. Why would he do that—doesn’t he know she’s dead? I don’t stop to ask. I need to find her.
Thump, thump, thump.
Another room: Daniel is inside. Seated at a table across an empty seat. His loneliness is palpable, the room covered in shades of blue. His eyes are searching for me. He misses me, I can feel it. But I don’t go in.
Thump, thump, thump.
A third room: my office, a deep shade of green. An empty distressed leather armchair. A chesterfield couch. A divan. A coffee table with books and a box of tissues. The room is calling me, urging me to step inside. I ignore it.
Thump, thump, thump.
One more room: bright yellow, sunny. I peer inside. It seems to be empty, its only presence a bright, beautiful energy. I hear my name. I know that voice. I look closer. I see her inside. Nana, sitting alone at the dining table that seats twelve. She sees me, too, and opens her arms. Come, her eyes say. I want to. But can’t. Not until I find her.
Thump, thump, thump.
I go by rooms of all colors. More rooms than I can count. I see Christina and Rachel. I see my agent, Sam. My publicist, Claudia. My patients, dozens of them. Elana, the host for East Coast Coffee.
And then I see her.
I don’t recognize this room, but I’m sure it’s her. She’s standing next to a bed, silent. Maybe this is her bedroom back in Boston. Her eyes are dreamy and sad, like she’s trapped inside an unhappy fairy tale. But that makes no sense—her fairy tales are meant to beautify, to add color and purpose to the gritty messiness of the world. I open the door and walk in, calling out her name. But she doesn’t turn around.
Julie, I say again.
Nothing. It’s like I’m not there.
I walk closer, reaching for her shoulder, but something makes me stop. I look down at the bed, following her gaze.
It’s me. Julie is looking at me.
I look around the room. It’s not a bedroom at all. It’s a hospital room.
I’m in a hospital room.
I need to wake up.
The hospital room smells like bleach. My eyelids feel heavy, like I drank too much wine before going to sleep. Someone is looking at me, a round-faced woman with large brown eyes. She’s pointing something bright into my eyes, repeating my name.
“Please stop,” I manage to say. My mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton.
“Do you know where you are?” she says, squinting at me. She lowers the pointer.
“Where’s Jul?” I ask.
The corners of her eyes lift in a smile. “Can you tell me your name?” Her tone is mild, slow. Almost insultingly slow.
I can’t have that.
“My name is Cassie Meyers,” I say. “I’m in the hospital. I was in a car accident and I’m assuming my arm was hurt because it’s immobilized. Thank you for your concern, but, as you can see, I’m feeling fine. I need to see my sister.”
Another smile, wider this time. “You’re as tough as they said. I’ll get her for you.”
“OK,” I agree. I look at her name tag. “Thank you, Nurse Rollins.”
“Call me Andrea.”
I close my eyes, just for a moment. But I feel myself sinking with fatigue. I let go.
“Cass?” Daniel’s voice wakes me up.
I open my eyes. “Daniel.”
He’s standing next to my bed, an expression of concern.
“Hey.” He reaches for my hand. “You had me worried. How are you feeling?”
I glance at the door. “Where’s Jul?”
“Right outside. She really wanted to come in, but she’s…” A pause. “What do you remember from last night?”
“I remember everything,” I say. And I do. I was stupid and reckless, getting in that car with my father. Letting him get to me like that. “It all happened so fast. I couldn’t find her earlier today. I was going crazy thinking I’d lost her again.” I gasp at the speed of my words. I feel nervous, agitated. I need to see Julie.
“Cass, slow down,” he says. “What do you mean, earlier today? You just woke up.”
“I meant earlier, when I was dreaming.” I force myself to take a breath. “I know I’ve been here since the accident. I know my father came to the house and tried to blackmail me. I know I got in the car with him. I know why, too. I know Julie sent my mother those pictures.”
“Your dad tried to blackmail you?” He looks horrified, but not entirely surprised.
“Sophie told him about us. About her suspicions, anyway. He said he’d hire a private detective. I told him to do his worst.” I catch my breath. I’m struggling to talk. “Is he here?
In the hospital?”
“He was, but not anymore.”
“Good.” Another pause, another breath. “I’m totally fine, Daniel, I promise. And I love that you’re here, but I need to see Jul.”
“OK, I’ll go get her. Can I just say one thing first?”
“Of course.”
“I love you. More than the entire world. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. You never have to doubt that.”
“I know you love me,” I say, looking into his eyes. “And I love you. And I want to be with you. But only if it’s for real. I can’t stop loving you, Daniel. But I also can’t wait.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve left Tatiana. I called her today. Julie helped me—”
“Julie helped you? How?”
“It’s a long story. But it’s done. I already texted Bella. Jackson is taking the kids to the aquarium. She’s going to the house to pack up my things right now.”
I try to sit up on the bed. “Your sister is packing your things?” This doesn’t sound like Daniel at all. He’s so self-sufficient. I’m sure Angie and Sam will have a great time with their Uncle Jackson at the aquarium, but why couldn’t this wait?
“We have to do it now. Tatiana’s in Nantucket. If I wait, Tatiana might go back and throw my things out.” He notices me moving and helps me sit up a bit.
“But how will she know what to pack? Don’t you want to do it?”
“I’m not leaving your side. Not for work, or to get my things, or for any other reason. I’m staying here until you can leave Montauk. We can call Claudia if you want. Tell her it’s official. Tell her we’re ready for, what was she calling it? The reveal?”
I let his words sink in, a feeling of warmth spreading across my chest.
“You’re really mine?” I ask.
“One hundred percent.” He leans in and gives me a peck on the mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say. “Now please get Jul.”
He makes his way to the door and whispers something. I hear a gasp and then I see her rush inside. She’s looking at me with our eyes, hope and fear written all over them.