Chapter 8
The first cold morning of winter, Sarah and I moved out of the hotel.
We did not move into Evelyn’s apartment.
Sarah found a small place near my school, with two bedrooms and windows that opened over a courtyard. Mrs. Vega lived a subway ride away. She promised to visit whether we wanted her to or not.
Evelyn helped carry boxes. She asked where Sarah wanted each one and followed the answer.
The money from Sarah’s shares was still being reviewed, but Dana had arranged access to funds that belonged to her without requiring her to settle the larger case first. Sarah used some to pay our old rent and bring Mrs. Vega a check for what she had spent on us.
Mrs. Vega tried to refuse.
“You fed my child,” Sarah said. “Let me do this.”
Mrs. Vega took it, then made us both promise to come for Sunday dinner.
At school, I had to explain why I had missed days and why people had seen my photograph beside Evelyn’s in the newspaper. Sarah spoke with my teacher so I would not have to tell the whole story to everyone.
A few children asked whether I was rich now.
“I have a new apartment,” I said.
I was still deciding what else I had.
Nora, my best friend, asked if I wanted to talk about my mother getting hurt. I told her some of it at recess. She listened and then asked if I wanted to play.
I did.
The police investigation continued. Victor was charged for his role in taking Sarah’s envelope and leaving her without help. Adrian faced questions about the forged financial papers and what he had told Victor.
I heard enough of the adults’ conversations to know a case could take a long time. Sarah and Dana made sure I knew I did not need to follow every step.
One afternoon, Evelyn invited us to the apartment again. She had found old home movies of Sarah and Adrian playing with their father.
We watched a little girl with my mother’s smile chase her brother through a garden. In one clip, Adrian picked her up when she fell and carried her inside.
Sarah watched without speaking.
“He loved me once,” she said when the film ended.
Evelyn reached for her hand.
“I think he did.”
“What happened?”
“I can tell you what I failed to see,” Evelyn said. “After your father died, Adrian wanted to manage everything. I let him. I thought it made him feel useful.”
“You let him manage me too.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn did not try to defend herself.
“I should have asked you what you wanted. When you left, I should have followed the answers myself.”
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“I needed you to tell me I could come home and still be my own person.”
“I know that now.”
They sat quietly while the screen went dark.
I thought about how people could be sorry and still need to live with what they had done. Evelyn was here now. Sarah was letting her stay in our lives. Neither pretended the missed years had vanished.
On the way home, Sarah stopped at a bakery and bought three small cakes. One was for Mrs. Vega, who had called to say she was nearby.
That evening, our apartment smelled of chocolate and coffee. Evelyn came too. She and Mrs. Vega disagreed about how long a cake should stay in the refrigerator.
It was the first family argument I had heard that made me feel safe.
After they left, Sarah found me holding the locket.
“Do you want me to put a new chain on it?” she asked.
“Yes. The old one broke when I fell.”
She winced.
“Evelyn keeps asking whether there’s more she can do to make that night right.”
“There isn’t anything that makes it unhappen,” I said. “But she hasn’t yelled at me since.”
Sarah nodded.
“You get to decide how close you want to be to her.”
“I like her when she listens.”
“Me too.”
A few days later, Dana called with the results of the signature examination. The bank forms had not been signed by Sarah. Several used a copy of her signature from a document she had signed years before, when her father was alive.
Adrian had kept that document.
Sarah put down the phone and looked at me.
“He took money from us,” she said.
I had suspected it. Hearing her say it plainly made my stomach turn.
“Will he have to give it back?”
“Dana says we’re going to make sure every dollar is accounted for.”
I put my hand in hers.
May you like
I wanted justice for the cold apartment and the nights she skipped dinner so I could have enough.
I wanted it for the way she had looked at me when she said she was going to that meeting.
