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the hall, where they stop and Nate pulls out his notebook and starts interrogating him.

‘Come on,’ I say to Hannah, pulling her back into June’s room.

Chapter 24

DAY 6

Hannah’s problem becomes my problem. A day later I’m standing beside the newsstand in the lobby of the hospital, trying to withdraw cash from the ATM and the machine is refusing to play ball. I’ve tried every single card and I’m aware that there’s an impatient nurse standing behind me tapping her foot and sighing loudly.

I turn around, stuffing my wallet full of redundant cards back into my bag.

‘I can lend you money,’ Laurie says, seeing my face when I walk back over to her by the coffee stand.

‘How am I going to pay you back?’ I ask, taking out my bottle of painkillers and dry swallowing several.

Laurie smiles at me and links her arm through mine. ‘Don’t worry about it. That’s what friends are for.’

Yes, I think, sure, but at some point I’m going to exhaust the limits of her generosity. It’s not like she and Dave can afford to keep supporting me. But what am I going to do? How am I going to get money to pay for our living costs? How am I going to find a place to stay or pay our hospital bills, let alone a lawyer? I don’t know what to do.

It’s been two days since they arrested Robert. His arraignment happened this morning but Horowitz failed to tell me, so I missed it. He entered a no contest plea, something which I had to Google. It means he’s neither denying nor admitting the charges against him, but is willing to accept the punishment. The pundits on the news are all proclaiming this a surefire sign of guilt. Even Horowitz. The only charge he refused to plead guilty to was conspiracy to commit murder.

I’ve called Nate to ask if I can see Robert again but apparently he’s refusing all visitors, including his lawyer. Another sign of guilt? I’m so angry that every time I think of him I feel like I might burst into flames. He lied to me about the bankruptcy and yet had the nerve to accuse me of being a liar, as though he’s so goddamn innocent!

Hannah wanted to know how I could doubt his innocence, how I could believe for an instant that her father was guilty. Because the evidence is so insurmountable, I wanted to shout at her. Because he had a motive, several in fact, though I can’t tell her all of them. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know that money and jealousy are two of the biggest motives in homicide cases. And yes, I thought I knew Robert, better than anyone in the world, but how well do you ever know anyone, really?

‘Why won’t he see you?’ Laurie asked.

I just shrugged. I can’t tell her either.

‘Where’s Gene, by the way?’ she asks now, as we make our way across the hospital lobby.

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. He came by yesterday to see June, stayed five minutes, then disappeared. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. I’m worried.’

‘What did he have to say about his dad being in prison? About the charges? Is he doing OK?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say. I don’t know anything. I’ve been living in a state of complete ignorance. My whole life was a lie.

‘Where’s he staying?’

‘He’s not staying with you?’ I ask, turning to her.

Laurie shakes her head.

‘Oh. Well . . . at the house, I guess, or maybe with a friend.’

‘Dave drove him somewhere the other day but I haven’t seen him either since then.’

I frown at that. ‘Why did Dave have to drive him?’

‘I think Gene sold his car. Didn’t he tell you?’

‘What?’ I stare at Laurie in astonishment but she just shrugs.

I wonder if he’s sold it in an effort to help out with the bills, and for a moment my heart softens towards him. But then I remind myself it’s Gene and he’s probably just used the cash to replace his stolen laptop and buy weed. He certainly hasn’t bothered to call or offer money. It does give me an idea though. Perhaps I can sell my car, or Robert’s. And we own some good pieces of furniture . . .

‘How long have you got to move out of the house?’ Laurie asks as we walk to the elevators.

‘I don’t know,’ I say. I probably would know if I checked my messages but I’ve been ignoring all calls and letting them ring through to voicemail. I only answer if it’s the kids, Laurie or Nate. I’m tired of having to repeat myself endlessly to friends and family seeking updates on June and more recently looking for an inside scoop on Robert’s arrest (though they disguise their rabid curiosity as sympathy). My voicemail is also filled with pleading messages from journalists, all asking for an exclusive interview. I gave up deleting them after the first two dozen.

I stop in front of the newsstand and scour the front pages. Immediately a headline leaps out at me from the Santa Barbara Herald. TWO MORE SUSPECTS ARRESTED OVER HOME INVASION. There are mugshots splashed across the front page and I recognize them as the two men in the photographs Nate showed me; the ones Robert was paying off, supposedly to break into the house and murder me.

‘Did you know about this?’ Laurie asks. ‘Did the Sheriff tell you they were arresting them?’

I shake my head dumbly. ‘I knew they were wanted for questioning, that’s all.’ I scan the article. There are few details about the suspects, other than their names and ages. I study their faces. One is a solid slab of a man. He’s staring at the camera like he’s facing off with an opponent in a title fight, his eyes so heavy-lidded they’re almost slits. The other one looks like he could be a friend of Gene’s from school – he’s preppy with clean-shaven good looks and a neat side parting. Could either of them

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