Quiet in Her Bones

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Quiet in Her Bones Page 31

by Singh, Nalini


  It couldn’t have been me. I’d crashed the Ducati. I hadn’t been in the Jaguar.

  Who told you there were two people inside when she drove away?

  Aurelie, it had been Aurelie.

  Aurelie, who’d do anything my father said.

  Aurelie, who was a liar.

  You know what happened. You followed her, caught up to her, then talked her into the passenger seat because she was drunk. Then you surrendered to the rage inside you. Cuts on your hands, Aarav. Cuts on your hands. You murdered your mother.

  “No, no, no.” My eyes burned on the heels of the insidious internal whispers, the dam inside me breaking in a crash that shook my whole body. I couldn’t control it, couldn’t even try. Raw, ugly, angry, my sobs were absorbed by the forest, my tears by the ground. Until I was wrung out, my throat rough and my eyes swollen.

  Still, I sat there. I don’t know for how long. There was a strange peace here, in this quiet place where my mother had lain for so long. I stared at that spot that had held her and I wondered if her spirit lingered there, lost and alone. She wasn’t just bones. She’d been a living, breathing woman who’d been angry and sometimes mean, but she’d also loved fiercely and she’d done all she could to protect her friends.

  “I miss you,” I said to her ghost. “I miss having someone in this world who loves me without question.” I could’ve fucked up a thousand different ways and she’d still have called me her Ari. “If a doctor had thrown me in a psychiatric facility while you were alive, I’d have gone in knowing you’d rain down hell to get me out.”

  I’d been alone since she vanished. Paige had come the closest to breaching the walls around my heart, but she’d never quite gotten through. Not her fault. The question of why my mother had left me had haunted me, further eroding my ­already-­damaged ability to trust.

  I’d told myself she’d never have left by choice, but part of me had wondered if she’d taken the money and run, if she’d done what she’d dreamed of and started again. Without the son who was a millstone tying her to a life she hated.

  A fantail flitted from branch to branch across from me, its tail sprayed out to display the characteristic fan shape that gave it its name, its eyes black buttons. A large and glossy wētā with a dark brown carapace, ­many-­legged and harmless, crawled out of the end of the log ­and—­long antennae ­twitching—­began to pick its way over the moss.

  I’d sat here so long in silence that the forest had accepted me as its own.

  Perhaps I’d just sit here until the world ended and I could find peace. But I shook my head the instant the thought passed through my head. Someone had murdered my mother, ended the angry brilliance of Nina Rai, and I wasn’t about to let them live in peace. They wouldn’t get away with it. And they wouldn’t get away with messing with my head.

  I blinked.

  Yes, that had been a verifiably unhinged thought.

  My skin chilled, my breath stuck in my lungs, and all I could think was that maybe it had been me. Maybe the reason I was spiraling into the abyss was because it had always been me. I was the monster I’d been ­chasing … the monster I needed to kill.

  Dread in my pulse, the first thing I did when I finally made it home was go up to my room and log in to my bank’s online portal. If I was doing drugs, I had to be paying for it somehow. But all of the transactions were ones I remembered or from obvious locations. Including the significant payment I made to Shanti every week.

  My father had laughed off my offer of rent and expenses, so I’d talked her into taking it.

  Making sure she had a secret fund.

  I opened my snack drawer when my stomach rumbled. My hand went to the new bag of mini Peanut Slab chocolates Shanti must’ve put in there. Laughing grimly, I pulled out a couple of pieces, leaving the fudge for now.

  I’d suspected Diana of doing something to her sister, for Christ’s sake.

  Dr. Binchy was right about the paranoia.

  But one thing was ­clear—­if I was doing drugs, I wasn’t paying for them. I hadn’t withdrawn any cash for months, so everything was on the cards and had left an electronic trail. And Thien, the only person I knew who could score drugs, never worked for free.

  On the other hand, there was no arguing with the results of the blood tests.

  Walking over to sit on my bed, I began to go through the meds on my bedside table. I’d already picked up all the ones I’d spilled. Now, I took out one of each, then used my phone to search online for images of them.

  Each and every one came back as matching the manufacturer’s standard.

  I stared at the small multicolored pile and thought about the last time I’d actually taken the whole lot. It had ­been … a while. Had I taken any before the first blackout? I couldn’t remember. I definitely hadn’t taken anything prior to my migraine yesterday.

  But, since I couldn’t trust my memory, I shook out the pills from each bottle one by one, then painstakingly counted them. A strange sense of déjà vu pressed down on me. Shrugging it off, I continued on with my inventory, with a special focus on the painkillers.

  There were definitely extra ­pills—­which meant I hadn’t taken them.

  What else had I eaten from the outside?

  The pastries with Lily. But Lily had eaten them, too. Plus I was the one who’d asked her if she wanted to come for a drive.

  I’d had cake with Diana. Again, she’d also eaten the same cake.

  Shanti fed me a lot, but Shanti had zero reason to make me sick enough to doubt myself. I was nice to her, and I’d made a promise to ensure my sister would never be without resources. ­But … Shanti was also the one who’d said I’d asked her to get the rat poison. I’d taken that as fact, but what ­if …

  I kept her name on my mental list.

  Was I forgetting anything or anyone?

  Taking out my notebook, I began to go through everything in it from the start. At the end, I added in a few more notes, including about my pill inventory. The one thing I didn’t note was Lexi’s bitchy comment. Diana deserved better than for me to immortalize such stupid lies.

  A knock on the door. “Aarav.”

  “Shanti, come in.” Guilt snarled my guts.

  She poked her head around the corner. “I just spoke to Elei. She says Alice can have visitors. Do you want to come?”

  “What about Pari?”

  “Oh, she’s at her friend’s ­house—­they’re doing a project together.” Shanti beamed. “We’ll pick her up on the way back.”

  “Yes, I’d like to come.” I wanted to speak to Alice again, see if she’d tell me anything new.

  But when we got downstairs and walked out, I hesitated. Driving myself was one thing, but having a ­passenger … “Do you mind driving?” I asked without explanation.

  “Oh, sure, that’s fine.” Shanti smiled, but I could tell she was nervous. She rarely drove outside her small, familiar circle of school and the local shops.

  “I’ll give you directions on how to get to the hospital. We’ll use the back route so it’s not busy.”

  We didn’t talk much on the ­drive—­Shanti was ­laser-­focused on not making a mistake and I didn’t want to distract her. I gave her simple instructions well ahead of every turn but otherwise stayed silent. Her smile after she parked in the hospital lot was both relieved and proud.

  “Good work. Knew you could do it.”

  Her smile sparkled in her eyes. “You made me push myself on purpose, Aarav! But thank you.”

  I let the assumption go, at the same time slapping myself for my stupid suspicions. Shanti was about as innocent and guileless as it was possible for a grown woman to be. The way I’d begun to look at ­her … with every hour that passed, I saw Dr. Binchy’s concerns ever more clearly.

  My stomach clenched.

  I was glad Shanti kept up a happy patter as we exited the car and headed toward the hospital building. Since Elei had already given her the ward and room number, we went straight to the elevators.<
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  The antiseptic smell that lingers in hospitals, intermingled with the scents of old medications and soft food, it made me grimace. I’d felt so fucking helpless when I’d woken inside walls just like these with no memory of how I’d gotten there.

  “This is it.” Shanti pointed to the closed door of a private room with a number seven above the door. No name inside the door label, probably a security precaution while Cora had been at large.

  A nurse walked by, her scrubs wrinkled and her stride lagging, but she dug up a smile. “I just saw Alice. She’s awake.”

  “Thank you.” Shanti knocked, then cracked open the door. “Alice?” A whisper.

  It was Elei who came out from behind the curtain that hung around the bed. “Shanti!”

  I slipped around the two women as they hugged and murmured to one another. Alice’s face was badly bruised and puffy, but she managed a half smile when I came around the curtain. “Aarav.” Her voice was clearer than I’d expected, given her extensive wounds.

  Noting that the more comfortable armchair had been claimed by Elei, I sat on one of the hard plastic visitor chairs. “Good to see you conscious. What do the doctors say?”

  “This fractured arm”—­she lifted her left arm as much as ­possible—­“heavy facial and upper body bruising, plus three broken ribs are the worst of the damage. I was lucky.” Her smile faded. “Strange to say that while I’m lying in hospital, my face black and blue, but that’s how I feel. As if this is my chance to do things right for me and for my baby girl.”

  A stirring of the curtain before I could ask after Manaia, Shanti and Elei coming to join us.

  More smiles, some conversation, before Alice said, “Mum, why don’t you and Shanti go get a cup of coffee and catch up?”

  When Elei hesitated, Alice added something in Samoan. I picked up my name.

  Giving me a pat on the shoulder, her mother and Shanti left arm in arm.

  Alice looked at me. “I should’ve done it long ago, when your mother first gave me the chance. I should’ve left Cora and gone to a place where she couldn’t hurt any of us.”

  “The argument you had with my mother before she vanished, did it have to do with Cora?”

  “Nina told me she’d arranged for Cora to be beaten.” Alice swallowed. “I was so scared that Cora would find out and take it out on me. Then when Nina ­disappeared …” Her eyes held mine. “I should’ve told you, but I convinced myself that Cora had nothing to do with it. And she’d stopped the abusive behavior. I told myself that being a victim had opened her eyes.”

  “Elei said Cora relapsed before they found my mother.” I had to be certain on this point.

  “Yes. She thinks I’m having an affair with Adrian.”

  Clearly I wasn’t able to control my expression, because she said, “You too?” A kind of a ­sob-­laugh. “Yes, I flirt with him, but otherwise, it’s all hard work. I loved Cora. That’s why I didn’t leave her after she beat me the first ­time—­she was so heartbroken by it and promised to do better and I loved her so much that I believed her.”

  She inhaled on a hitch of breath. “I thought we were doing okay. We even went to counseling, and then she kept up solo sessions with the ­therapist. But it turned out she was just holding her rage inside all this time.”

  “Is there anything else you know about what might’ve happened to my mother?”

  Alice shook her head. “She was such a good friend to me and I’ve ­always regretted that the last words I said to her were angry. Nina helped me. She would’ve helped Diana, too, if she’d had the chance.”

  The entire world went silent. “With reaching Sarah? Diana’s sister?”

  “What? Oh, no.” Alice gestured toward the bottle of water on the ­bedside table. It had a straw poking out the top.

  She took a couple of deep draws after I held it to her lips. “Thank you.”

  “You were saying, about Diana.”

  “You know I used to work at the same private hospital as Calvin, right? Back at the start of my career, before I specialized in the ER.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I was in a different department, but gossip travels. Anyway, I started hearing that he had a thing with one of the other doctors. Didn’t really pay much attention because that type of gossip is always going around, and Calvin’s such a straight ­arrow—­but then I saw them kissing.”

  So, Trixi and Lexi hadn’t been blowing smoke up my ass. “You told Diana?”

  “I was torn. I mean, she loves Calvin so much and the other doctor was married, too, with little kids. I didn’t want to destroy Diana’s marriage because of a short affair.” She raised her unbroken arm to wipe the tears off her face. “I asked Nina what I should do.”

  I couldn’t predict what my mother’s answer might’ve been. She’d known her own husband was cheating and had stayed in the marriage out of a mix of spite and who knew what other toxic emotion. “What did she say?”

  “She got really quiet, then said, ‘Diana’s happy. Let’s not throw a grenade into her marriage if it’s just a fling.’ I got the impression she was really sad, because Diana was the one we both used to tease for having the perfect husband.”

  “So you never told Diana?”

  “No, but Nina said I should keep an eye on Calvin and the other doctor, in case things changed. The other doctor ended up dying suddenly of a heart attack not long afterward, so I was glad we never mentioned it.” Alice held my gaze. “I’ve kept the secret all this time. Diana’s the kindest person I know and she’s had enough to deal with, with her sister being so awful to her.”

  “Did she ever say what caused the break between them?”

  Alice glanced away, then back. “No, but I was a young woman madly in love when I first came to the Cul-­de-­Sac, and the way Calvin looked at ­Sarah … that was the way Cora used to look at me.”

  The silence turned into a roar. “You think Sarah had an affair with Calvin?”

  “Sarah would’ve never.” Alice’s voice was fierce. “She was devoted to Diana. But the way Diana always takes the blame for the fight, I think she might’ve accused her sister of it. That would’ve broken Sarah’s heart.”

  I nodded, Diana’s ­guilt-­ridden voice whispering in my mind, talking of faith and broken promises. “I can see how it might’ve played out.” A baseless accusation that had permanently ripped apart the bond between two sisters.

  The door opened, Elei’s and Shanti’s voices preceding the two women. I sat back and let them take over the conversation. I had plenty to think about.

  When my phone beeped at around eight, an hour after we’d arrived back at my father’s house, I glanced at it to see an alert for a message from a VIP email address. I had very few people on that list, but I’d added Sarah to it after Mia forwarded me her address.

  I scrambled to open up the email. It had just been sent:

  Aarav, what an unexpected message. It’s been a while. How are you? I saw the news about your mum. I’m sorry.

  I replied quickly, hoping she was still online.

  Thanks, can I give you a call?

  The response downloaded only seconds later.

  It’s not convenient right now, but we can talk this way. Did you have a particular reason for getting in touch?

  I was talking to Mia and thought it’d be nice if I could arrange a meeting between you and your sister.

  The answer took time.

  That’s sweet of you, Aarav, but it’s been too long. I like my life and I don’t really want to go back into the past. I’ve moved on.

  Even from your family?

  My family always had weird dynamics. It’s better this way. We don’t hurt each other anymore.

  I stared down at the screen.

  Diana really misses you. She almost cried when talking to me about you. Whatever she did, she’s sorry about it.

  Another long wait for a reply.

  I trusted her and she broke my trust. You can’t
fix that.

  Is that why you tore up her roses?

  It was an immature thing to do, but I was immature back then. I saw them as I was leaving and just ripped them out. Got my hands torn up by thorns, but I didn’t care. I hope her roses are thriving now.

  They are. Sarah, can we talk again?

  Email me anytime. I have to go now. Bye, Aarav.

  I sat there staring at the screen for long moments. When my stomach rumbled, I ate half a bag of the fudge in my desk drawer while considering Sarah’s words. Was she right? Should I take her lead and stop walking back into the past? Should I let sleeping dogs lie?

  The answer was easy: no, not so long as my mother’s killer roamed free.

  But it was obvious that whatever had broken between Sarah and ­Diana—­whether it was what Alice suspected or something ­else—­it couldn’t be fixed. I, too, was sad that Diana’s life wasn’t as perfect as ­everyone believed.

  ­But … did Calvin’s ­long-­ago infidelity matter if Diana had never known? It looked like he treated her with the same love and care as always, and she seemed happy.

  Maybe that was enough.

  Grimacing at the low throb of pain at the back of my head, I decided to take a break and read. It was probably just a tension headache. But it continued to grow until I ended up in bed. That proved pointless, ­however—­I couldn’t sleep. Sitting up, I finally surrendered and took a few of the prescribed painkillers.

  No point in avoiding them if I was going to end up with an aneurysm.

  As the medicine worked its way through my system, I had a thought: that day, the one after Sarah left the family home, was when I’d seen my mother on her knees beside Diana, helping to put her rose garden to rights.

  Sarah had ripped out the roses by their roots.

  But now, in the painless clarity of my brain, I realized Diana had planted those roses at least three years earlier. I’d seen them bloom multiple times. It was impossible for anyone to just rip them out in a fit of ­fury—­especially not a woman using her bare hands.

  My memory of that moment was crystalline. I remembered how some of the rose plants had been dying already, broken off too savagely to save, but only some. The majority had been carefully insulated with dirt, the roots fairly unharmed.

 

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