Naomi was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, "That sweet, poor girl. She knew me so well. I can't help but think that if I hadn't broken things off, Moria would have found the strength to carry on despite everything."
"Don't blame yourself," I said. "Moria didn't. Even if you two were still together, she would have acted the same. Caught between her father and Dr. Leitner, she saw no other way out."
"Why didn't she write me something to explain, to let me know I wasn't to blame?"
"I don't know. I so wish I did, but I don't. But I do know you were the best thing that ever happened to her, Naomi. I saw it in the pictures. That's still true, no matter how your relationship ended."
Naomi burst into tears, covered her face, and sort of toppled toward me. I held her tight as she shook against my shoulder. She cried for a long time. Partly in sorrow, and partly in relief, I thought. She now knew she hadn't driven Moria to suicide. The burden of guilt had lifted, at least most of it. Now she could begin mourning in earnest.
We stayed that way even after her tears ceased. I wasn't sure how long; time seemed different.
When she pulled away, Naomi looked embarrassed, and my arms felt empty. She got up to wash her face, returning a few minutes later, looking drained.
"There's something I don't understand," she said. "Why did Moria's father hire you to investigate her death if he had the note she mailed him?"
"He didn't. I don't know why, but it never reached him. It wouldn't be the first time a letter got lost in the mail."
"And Dr. Leitner?"
"I'm pretty sure he got his note. When I asked him if he thought Moria killed herself because of him, he got very upset and blamed her in the crudest language. Maybe he did have a conscience somewhere under all that ambition."
"What will happen to Moria's father?"
"He'll go away for a long time. Either to prison or the insane asylum."
"Good," she said. "I hope he dies locked up."
I did too. For what Gafni had done to his daughter, he deserved not being free ever again.
"He took a big risk hiring you, didn't he?" she asked.
"Because I might discover what he did to her?"
"Yes."
"He must have figured Moria wouldn't have told anyone about it. And, apart from her and him, no one else knew. It was only by accident that I discovered the truth. Also, I think he truly loved her—a sick, twisted love, but love all the same—and he couldn't stand the thought that she'd killed herself because of him. The chance of learning someone else was to blame was worth the risk."
"Are you going to tell him the truth?"
"Moria would want me to. But I'll wait until after his trial. Let him get his sentence first." I didn't tell her I was worried about how Gafni would take it. He was deranged enough to want to kill the messenger, and he had more than enough money to pay someone to come after me. I wanted a little rest before I had to deal with that.
Changing the subject, I said, "Naomi, there's one more thing I need to know. Did you visit Moria's apartment a few weeks after her death?"
Naomi nodded. "I lied about that too."
"What did you take?"
"Nothing. During our relationship, Moria wrote me poems. I gave them back to her when I ended things. I went to her apartment to look for them, but I didn't find them. She must have thrown them out." A pause, a deep inhalation. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Adam."
"That's all right. I understand why you did it. I'm sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusions, for blaming you for... well, for everything."
A twitch of her lips. "I suppose I brought it on myself with all my lies." She gave me a direct look. "There's something here, isn't there, Adam? Between the two of us?"
"Yes," I said. "Yes, there is."
"I felt it on the day we first met."
"I think I did too."
"But I can't do anything about it. I wish I could, but I can't. Please tell me you understand why."
An image of her husband, crippled and mute and blank-faced, caught between life and death, flashed before my eyes. I had to clear my throat before I spoke. "I do, Naomi."
"If I could, would what I did with Moria change things?"
I thought about it and shook my head. "No. I don't believe it would."
Naomi's smile was both happy and sad. She gripped my hands. Her pulse thrummed through my skin, in perfect rhythm with mine.
We sat like that for a long, peaceful while, our fingers clasped, communicating wordlessly yet deeply, knowing it would soon be time to say goodbye.
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