I watch as Jodi Lee looks as though she has caught the biggest story of her life. There’s both pleasure and revulsion in her face. I can’t look away.
I can’t imagine anyone can look away from their screens.
She’s Marlow Fin, after all.
Every pixel of color swarms to collect around her stunning features, like wasps fighting for their station in the nest. She’s magnificent. Her hair cascades perfectly down one shoulder. There are a few streams of tears down her face. She looks up to Jodi and sits up straighter. She has an announcement to make after all.
“He tried to drown me.”
“Who? Who tried to drown you?” Jodi asks.
She puts her arms out as if to demonstrate for the audience.
“I stood there alone on the dock. I thought I was alone. And I feel this big shove. I’m in the water before I can react. It’s so cold, it feels like shockwaves throughout my whole body . . . and I see his face. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t cry. He’s just looking down at me.”
“Who, Marlow? Who is looking down at you?”
“My father.”
“Patrick? Patrick Baek tried to drown you that night . . . but why? Why would he do that?”
“Because . . .”
“You can tell us. You can tell us, Marlow.”
Her mouth shakes as she continues.
“He had his hands on my shoulders and then my head. He’s so strong I can’t do anything but move my arms in the water. I can’t see him anymore. And the whole time I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe . . .”
Jodi Lee looks like she’s going to be sick. But she holds it together.
“Why, Marlow? Why would he drown you?”
“Because I remembered the truth about my mother.”
CHAPTER 57
WREN
1980s
She made the phone call she promised them she would make.
“It’s time,” was all she had to say into the phone.
He picked her up at the corner by the deli and told her to lie down in the back seat. When they reached the house, he draped his coat over her and led her up the front steps. The contractions seized her as they crossed the foyer.
“Can you make it up the stairs?” he asked flatly.
She nodded.
Stella was waiting for them in their bedroom.
“I have everything prepared, Wren,” she said, motioning toward a miniature threaded fortress of blankets and towels.
They both helped her onto her side. The sheets smelled like lavender. She smoothed her hand over a wrinkle.
That was the last complete memory she had before the pain fogged out the room. Their faces became blurred masks that spoke to her incoherently.
Her body felt like it was cracking in two halves when she pushed the baby out. She couldn’t recall how long it had been since she first lay down on the bed. Her scream was muffled by the rolled-up washcloth that had been placed into her mouth.
But none of that mattered. She was here. She held her baby’s tiny body in her arms and cried. How was it possible to feel such love for someone she didn’t know? She cried even more and then laughed through the tears, delirious with euphoria. She looked up at them, expecting them to be just as she was.
They looked down at her with faded expressions.
Her joy had muted theirs.
“We’ve picked out a name,” Stella announced.
Wren looked down at the baby girl, who rooted at her chest. The slight tug of her lips pressed and then peeled away like a snail.
Stella’s fingers felt like spears as they dug against her skin, pulling the baby away. She handed her to Patrick, who stiffly held her and then stared down with amazement.
“Wait,” she started to say as he left the room.
She tried to get up but then sat back quickly, light-headed.
“Shhh. Rest now,” Stella cooed, smoothing her hair back.
