“What do you mean?”
“He died when Evelyn did. He loved that girl with all his heart. When she passed, the spark went out of him. He wasn’t the same man anymore.” Her gaze settles on me. “He looked a lot like you do now. I want you to know how sorry I am for what happened to your family.”
I open my mouth and close it. A thick clump forms in my throat, and I tell myself not to cry, not here in front of this woman. Ben gives my hand a squeeze.
“If you’re here for closure,” Paula says, “I’m not sure I can provide that for you. But I’ll try. Even though Evelyn wasn’t my daughter, I loved her like one. She was special.”
I tense.Special. Noah was special. Ethan was special. Evelyn Nash was anythingbutspecial.
Paula tilts her head. “I can see that bothers you.”
“Of course it does,” I say. “She was driving drunk.”
“There were … extenuating circumstances. What Evelyn did wasn’t her fault.”
I blink and feel my lips go numb. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” Paula Nash leans back in her chair and takes another drink. “Make yourself comfortable. I have quite the story to share.”
Chapter 25
BAILEY
“Evelyn had autism,” Paula says. “She was funny in a lot of ways. Brilliant in others. But as you can probably guess, she wasn’t always the easiest to connect with. Or to raise.”
Autism. I don’t know much about the condition other than what I’ve seen in the movies and at Noah’s daycare. One of the kids there had it and always seemed to be melting down.
“That had to be difficult,” Ben says.
Paula nods. “Very much so. It takes someone special to raise an autistic child. Not everyone is cut out for it. Evelyn’s birth mother Nina certainly wasn’t. Neither was Francesca.”
“Francesca?” I ask.
“Don’s second wife,” Paula says. “She wanted everything to revolve around her. When Don prioritized his daughter, she left. I could have called that one from a mile away, but men will be men. Even someone like Don.”
I want to roll my eyes.Someone like Don. Like the man is some kind of saint. “So why did you stay when the others didn’t?” I blurt, annoyed.
Paula laces her fingers together and sets her hands in her lap. “I didn’t meet Evelyn until she was sixteen. I didn’t have the samechallenges Francesca and Nina did. By the time I came around, Evelyn was mostly self-sufficient. That’s not to say we didn’t have our share of problems.”
Ben leans in. “Like what?”
“Evelyn was always looking for connection. She wanted to fit in, to make friends. But that was difficult for her. Teenagers are mean, even at a private school. She was bullied. There were suicide attempts.”
I feel Ben’s gaze on me. I don’t turn his way.
Paula continues: “Don was beside himself every time it happened. He didn’t understand it. To him, Evelyn was perfect. Beautiful in every way. He blamed himself. He pulled her out of school.”
“How many attempts were there?” Ben asks.
The question hangs there, Paula tapping her bottle of San Pellegrino before finally answering. “Three. One happened before I married Don and two after.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, struggling to process this new information, not sure how to reconcile it with my hate.
“It wasn’t easy,” Paula says. “Don took a sabbatical. We spent every day with her. I did what I could to cheer her up, but it was Don who really brought her back to life. He poured himself into her every chance he got.”
I try to imagine Donald Nash in this light and struggle to do so. From the video clips I’d watched, he’d seemed so full of himself, so self-absorbed. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Maybe I’d misjudged the man.
“He truly believed he could save her,” Paula says. “Though I didn’t always share his optimism.” She looks away for a moment, seemingly lost in a memory. When she turns back, her eyes are wet. “Evelyn walked in on me crying once, a few weeks after she came home from the hospital after one of her suicide attempts. When she asked me what was wrong, I told her what she did made me sad. I said I didn’t want to lose her.” Paula gives a sudden laugh and wipes hereyes. “Do you know what the girl did after that?”
