“Is Mary Ann really that upset?”
“Well, yes. I’m sure she’ll get over it. Now you simply must sit with me and David.”
“Caro, maybe it would be better—”
“No, it wouldn’t be better,” she said firmly. “You’ll come with me because I want you to. This is my final word.”
Carolyn was used to high-handed proclamations. Her money, her position, had ensured that she possessed a tremendous expectation of being obeyed. At times she acted like a tiny tyrant. I was used to doing what she wanted. That same money and position were things that I envied and admired, keys to a different kingdom. With her connections, Carolyn could greatly assist me after graduation. But only if we remained on good terms. She knew it, I knew it. And there were moments like this when that knowledge stung.
I therefore spent a couple of hours sitting awkwardly between Carolyn and David, acting the role of duenna. Eventually, I was able to extricate myself from my duties when Carolyn determined she wanted to spend a few minutes alone with David.
I rushed up the stairs and back to my room. Ginny was not there. I was immediately deflated. However, when I looked out the window, I saw she was standing no more than a few feet from our dorm.
She wore a dark gray coat that favored her greatly. She was not alone. Santiago was rolling a cigarette and talking to her.
This is one of the keys to the mystery of Ginny’s disappearance, one of the moments I’ve replayed in my mind ever since, trying to recall the angle of the light outside, the feeling of the glass upon my fingertips as I pressed them against the window, the soft ticking of a clock, the scent of the roses that were tucked in the white porcelain vase.
This moment matters because it’s one of the only occasions when I saw Ginny and Santiago speak to each other alone. Or, at least, speaking when they thought they were alone. Every othertime he turned his eyes toward her, or she nodded at him in greeting, there were other girls nearby. The house teemed with activity.
But there they were, outside the dorm as he lit his cigarette, talking.
I could see Ginny’s beautiful face clearly, but the drops of rain that had begun to fall quickly marred the old glass pane, distorting the view. I rubbed my hand against the glass and thought of opening the window, but like everything else in the house, it was ancient and could not be easily operated.
Santiago stood with one hand in the pocket of his trousers while he held his cigarette with the other. He pointed at something in the direction of Briar’s Commons. Ginny crossed her arms and they kept talking. He was nodding, he smiled. Then she turned away and walked back into the dorm.
I heard nothing of their conversation, and their gestures did not strike me as odd. I’ve tried hard to rack my brain, attempting to recall if at any point Santiago touched her, or she touched him, if they shared a small gesture of affection. Or else, if Ginny stepped away frightened, suddenly anxious.
Ginny came bounding up the stairs a few minutes later and walked into the room. She unbuttoned her coat.
“Betty. I thought you were downstairs,” she said.
“I came up to see how you’re doing.” The porcelain vase with the roses was by the window and I toyed with the petal of a flower.
“I went for a walk.”
“In the rain.”
She smiled. “It’s not much rain yet. More of a drizzle.”
“You were speaking to Santiago.”
“Yes. The poor boy needs a stable job. He has family back in Portugal depending on him, you know? I think I might ask Carolyn if she knows of any positions at her father’s mill.”
“He’s hardly a boy. He must be older than us.”
“He’s twenty-one and a Pisces.”
“It sounds like you know him fairly well to have memorized his zodiac sign,” I said.
“I know you’re a stubborn Taurus,” she said, and laughed herlight, delightful laugh. With one hand she shook off the droplets of water in her hair, then she leaned down and smelled the roses.
“Isn’t Edgar wonderful?” she asked, and she smiled, glowing with joy. “He never forgets my flowers.”
“It’s a nice touch. How are you feeling now?”
She grabbed the basket with her knitting supplies, placed it on the bed, and pulled out a ball of yarn, twisting a piece of thread. “Much better.”
“You haven’t told me what happened last night.”
