“Yeah. Captain of the police, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. I didn’t hit my head that hard.” I gulp, but my mouth is so dry I could swear I still taste brittle pine needles on my tongue. “Tony—your uncle Tony was there. He chased me—”
Luc flinches. I guess he rarely thinks of Tony as a relative of his, let alone a close relative. “We didn’t see him. We didn’t see anyone. We went to the cabins, and the sun was setting. We had to get flashlights and two more cops from the station. We searched the cabins, then the woods. I found you practically by accident. You were in this ravine.”
“Tony was in the woods,” I repeat. “I’m certain.” Did he just take off? Did he think I was dead?
“Maybe he was afraid he’d get in trouble,” Luc says.
I guess I said that last part out loud.
“Do you want to make a statement? We can have him arrested.”
“There’s something he said,” I say softly, hardly aware that he’d spoken. “Something… I can’t quite remember. It was all very weird.”
“It’s Tony,” Luc says with a somewhat shaky chuckle. “Weird is pretty much the default.”
“No. I think he mistook me for someone else—”
“Stephanie!” The shrill cry carries even through the cluttered room. I know who it is before she tears the curtain aside. My mother bursts in and somehow instantly fills the already cramped space with her presence. I notice that she’s dressed up and wearing makeup. What on earth?
“Oh my God.” She casts a glance at Luc that I can only describe as hostile and then pushes him out of the way and plunks down on the cheap plastic chair next to the bed. “We were all worried sick.”
I’m itching to ask her if she went along for the search dressed like this, complete with trashy patent leather heels. But this might not be the right moment.
“Why on earth would you go into those woods?” She glowers at Luc once again. “Not for that little story of yours?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I bleat.
“Yes, it matters! It’s dangerous, and there was nothing for you to do there to begin with.”
“Laura, I’m so sorry,” Luc pipes up. “I never should have taken her—”
“And you damn well shouldn’t have left her there,” Laura fumes. Her eyes narrow as she focuses her fury on Luc. “What was this? Some bullshit attempt to get back into her pants? Don’t you have a wife at home? I always knew you were bad news.”
Luc’s nostrils flare. “Since when do you care so much about Stephanie anyway?”
“Aren’t you the parenting expert.” She’s getting worked up, I can see it plainly. Her eyes have a bad glimmer in them. Oh god, has she been drinking? “A shining example of family values. From such an illustrious line of upstanding citizens.”
“Mom,” I snap, deciding to put a stop to this once and for all.
“Shut up, Stephanie. Let me finish.”
“No, I won’t shut up. Luc, can you give us a minute?”
Laura looks at him with an expression of condescending pity. Luc weathers it to the best of his ability. “Fine,” he huffs, and disappears behind the curtain.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” I hiss at Laura.
“Defending your honor, such as it is,” she parries, looking triumphant. “The whole town is already yapping about it. That Luc decided to recapture the past. Cath was here at the hospital having a shit fit. They had to call security.”
I can’t help it. I smile a little, out of the corner of my mouth.
“Don’t you smirk. Or I’ll slap it right off your face. How do you think it reflects on you? Or did you forget? Marly isn’t Montreal. It’s a small town. People talk.”
“Do they now? I wonder what they’ll talk about, seeing you here dressed like this. Where’s the free booze, Mom?”
She starts to say something, but I cut her off.
“And while we’re on the subject of people talking, can I ask you why you have a ruby-and-diamond ring that’s listed as stolen in a report about a burglary at the Fortiers?”
The shock on her face is so immediate and profound that I can’t shake the feeling it’s sincere.
“The—Fortiers? What—”
“Yeah. What. You said you inherited it from your mother, but I suppose that’s BS. A ruby-and-diamond pavé ring. I saw it in your things, but you never wear it.”
Blood drains from Laura’s face. It’s unsettling to see. I’ve hardly ever seen my mother like this. The truth is, I’d bluffed. Until now I was nowhere near certain the ring was one and the same. I’d always assumed it was a fake anyway. But here it is, the proof, right in front of me.
“Stephanie,” she says, and her voice is completely different. No longer shrill, but hoarse and husky. “I—”
In that moment, the curtain is pulled aside once more. We both turn as if on command. It’s the doctor. Well, it’s a doctor. “Hello there,” the woman says in a forcefully cheerful voice. She glances at the chart by my bed, “Stephanie. And you must be—”
“Her mother,” Laura says in the same bloodless voice.
“Of course,” the woman says. “Laura O’Malley.”
If Laura is surprised that the woman knows her name, she doesn’t show it. She still looks stunned—so much that I start to wonder if it’s not all faked. She looks like she actually didn’t know the ring had come from the Fortiers. Thing is, can I believe anything Laura says or does?
