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“But it’s also ass-backward. Hush money is usually paid on the front end—because you want topreventa person from revealing damaging information about you. You don’t offer it twelve years later as a thank-you, especially if you’ll be dead soon anyway.”
I flop back on the couch, exhaling loudly. She’s right, it sounds absurd in the cold light of day.
“I know this must all be making you crazy,” Mikoto says, “but you’ll probably have more clarity once you speak to an attorney. Did you have any luck getting an appointment?”
I nod and help myself to another piece of broccoli from my plate. “Yeah, she’s out of town, but I’m seeing her on Friday. I know it will help, but it’s not like she’ll have the answer to the most important question: Why me?”
Mikoto reaches out and taps my hand. “Don’t give up. The answer might become clear over time.”
We’re both full by that point, but there’s still food left over and Mikoto urges me to keep it, saying she’ll be out tonight and won’t have any use for it.
“Hot date?” I ask.
She smiles and rolls her eyes. “It’s really just a study date with a guy in my criminal procedure class, but I’m praying he’s going to look up at some point and realize he’s totally smitten with me. What about you? You should be with friends at such a crazy time.”
“Yeah, I’m all set,” I lie.
Against my protests, she packs up the leftovers herself and puts them in the fridge. “I wish I could do something foryoufor a change,” I say. “It feels like a one-way street, me coming to you for help on everything from a lost cat to an avenging widow.”
“Please, not at all. This has been a pretty big switch for me—giving up work, going back to school—and it’s great to have a pal next door. We should grab dinner out sometime.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Oh, speaking of eating, let me give you some cash for my half.”
As I fish through my purse for my wallet, Mikoto gathers her things behind me.
“Oh, wow, is that your next collage?” she asks. I turn around and she lifts her chin toward the table. “Mind if I take a peek?”
“Sure, but it’s not ‘artwork’ really, just something I’ve been messing around with—to help me get more of a handle on that night we’ve been talking about.”
She takes a few steps toward the table, and I watch her eyes drift across the paper.
“Boston, right?”
My heart skips a beat hearing the word. “Yeah.... Have you spent much time there?”
“A little bit. I went to Dartmouth undergrad, and we’d spend the occasional weekend down there—when we needed a break from Bumfuck, New Hampshire.” She turns her attention back to the collage. “So you met the guy there?”
“Yeah, I did. I’m hoping the collage will help jog my memory, though it’s been tough for me to revisit all those images. M-My sister died there. Actually, nearby. And it was the same weekend I had the one-night stand.”
“Oh my god, Skyler, I’m so sorry,” she exclaims. Her concern sounds heartfelt and genuine, though her expression is perplexed. “Is that why you were at the hotel? Because your sister had just died in the area?”
“No, I was going to grad school in Boston then, and my sister was there, too—as an undergrad. One Saturday night a friend comped me a room at the hotel she was working at, and the very next morning, I learned Chloe was dead.”
Mikoto nods. “Do you mind my asking how it happened?”
“She died from a broken neck—in a ravine behind a house where a big party was going on. Though we were never sure exactly how it happened, it seemed she must have been shoved over the edge during a sexual assault. There were no obvious signs of a struggle, but her blouse was missing. Maybe she was up for fooling around with some guy and then changed her mind, and that infuriated him so much he pushed her, or he attacked her without warning, got the blouse off, and then pushed her when he saw that she would be too much of a challenge. It’s possible she even fell getting away from him.”
She shakes her head, looking bewildered. “That must have been so horrible for you.... And what a bizarre coincidence.”
I glance away, weighing her words.
“You mean that it happened the same weekend I met this guy C.J.?” I say. “Yeah, I guess. Though at the time I had no idea that I’d ever hear another word either from or about him.”
“Well, life is pretty strange, isn’t it?... If you ever want to talk about your sister, let me know. I’d be happy to listen.”
“Thanks, Mikoto.”
After she’s gone, and it’s just me and Tuna and the muted sounds of car horns and people calling out to each other on Seventh Street, I return to the couch and drain the rest of my fizzy water. Exhausted even though it’s only the early afternoon, I lean back against the cushion, closing my eyes.
