“At first, I think? Once she was settled, she stopped wanting to talk to me again.”
“Ugh. Why?”
“I don’t know. I felt like she had secrets she didn’t want me to find out. But maybe I’m just flattering myself and she just plain didn’t like me.”
“Mimi…”
She waved me off. “Anyway, what could I do? She was a grown woman. She even deleted her Instagram. I started sending her money every month, just so I could know from the cashed checks that she was alive.”
“But wait,” I said. “At some point, she becametheLeila Donnelly.”
“Yep,” she said. “The reclusive, mysterious Leila Donnelly.”
“Did she call you when that first book became a hit? Is that how you got back in touch again?”
She shook her head. “I found out she was a bestselling romance writer when my friends started asking me if I could get them autographed first editions.”
I gaped at her. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “I downloaded her first book and I read it,” she said. “It didn’t sound like Leila at all.”
“How?”
“It was so…gushy. Leila was never gushy. It was like the book had been written by a stranger.”
“So,” I said, “what made her want to talk to you again?”
“Tommy.”
“That makes sense.”
“When he was born, he gave Leila a reason to move back home,” she said. “There was no father in the picture. I got that he was a fling—someone who’d never even given Leila his phone number. Leila said, ‘Mom, I’m afraid I’m going to mess up with my son.’ And I said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll help you take care of him.’ I expected a snide response, but she was so grateful, and it’s been…It was…Well, Leila just keeps surprising me. And Tommy’s a love.”
“He adores you,” I said.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Is your visitor still here?” said the pink baby monitor.
“She’ll be leaving soon, Mrs. Dorsey!”
“Did you offer her tea?”
“Yes, I did, Mrs. Dorsey!” Mimi waited. When it was clearthat Mrs. Dorsey had no more questions, she turned to me and leaned in. “The day Leila died, she called me. She asked me to watch Tommy, and I said of course. She wanted me to meet her down at the convenience store in Union. She handed Tommy off to me in the parking lot. It was the first time in a while that I’d had a good, long look at her and she was so…”
“What?”
“Scared.”
“Did she say why?”
“No, but she was adamant about meeting in a public place. This is a young woman who rarely leaves her house.”
“That must have seemed strange.”
“She said, ‘I’m finally about to do the right thing, Mom, so wish me luck.’ ”
A thought came to me: When I’d talked to Leila on the phone, she’d told me that Tommy was with her mother. Looking specifically at the timeline, she’d probably just come back from the convenience store parking lot. I remembered the way her voice had sounded—that hushed, anxious tone. I’d thought she was being manipulative—trying to gain my sympathy in order to keep me from going to the press. But looking back on it, I realized she’d sounded genuinely frightened.Sunny, listen. What you guys think about me is true. But only partly.
