In Her Eyes by Sarah Alderson (ebook reader for pc and android TXT) 📕

to pack all her things,’ I say, taking a deep breath and standing up. I can’t sit here crying and feeling sorry for myself, I need to start packing, and start deciding what to sell.

‘That’s what I was doing,’ Hannah answers. ‘I’ve done my room already. I was about to start on June’s.’ She gestures at a pile of things on the floor. ‘I thought maybe we could take a few of her things to the hospital, put them in her room, for when she wakes up.’

‘I should have thought about that already.’ Another flurry of guilt hits.

I glance at the pile of stuff Hannah has gathered – June’s teddy bear, her hairbrush, some gymnastics trophies, framed photographs of her and Abby and other friends, her collection of signed Hunger Games books, a photo album, a basketball. The detritus of a life fully but not even partially lived.

I sink to my knees and pick up her bear, bringing him to my face and breathing in deep. He smells musty – of dead animal – and I drop him to my lap. There’s no scent of June in this room anymore. No trace of her. Her laughter has faded from my head too. When my mother died I forgot the sound of her voice within a year; the harder I tried to remember it the quicker it vanished, like trying to grab handfuls of smoke. I try to recall June’s voice but already it’s a struggle, like that lost memory from the night it all happened – the harder I reach for it, the further away it drifts. The doctors said I might have problems with my memory thanks to the head injury, but this fog is driving me mad.

‘Have you heard any more from the lawyer?’ Hannah asks, snapping me out of my daze. ‘About Dad? Are they going to let him out of jail? Has he said anything? Can we visit?’

I shake my head. ‘Why?’ she asks angrily.

I shrug. I haven’t told her that he is refusing to see anyone, except Gene apparently, only that we can’t get visitation rights at the moment.

‘He didn’t do it, he wouldn’t do it,’ Hannah says, her voice reaching fever pitch. She turns to me, frowning. ‘You don’t believe it, do you?’

I’m staring at the bear in my lap.

Why is Robert not speaking? Is he hiding his own guilt? What other motive would there be? He knows something and won’t reveal it. Think, Ava. What else could it be? What was he doing in Oxnard meeting those people?

‘Mom?’

I look up, dazed, at Hannah.

‘You don’t believe Dad arranged it, do you?’ she asks tearily.

I shake my head, because I don’t want her to think I do. I’m lying to protect her, as I’ve always done with all the children, and that’s when it occurs to me: is that what Robert is doing too?

What if his silence isn’t a sign of guilt? What if he’s lying to protect someone? And the only person he’d protect like that, who he’d take a fall for, is one of the kids. I follow that thought, grasping onto it and trying to drag it kicking into the light. The only child he’s allowed to see him in prison is Gene. Gene – our possibly drug-addicted son. Is he somehow covering for Gene?

It’s like a lightbulb going on.

I remember the feeling I had at the hospital earlier with Gene, that I was talking to a five-year-old who’d been caught pilfering from the cookie jar. But now I realize it might not have been drugs, or flu, or fear making Gene so jittery. What if it was guilt?

What if it was Gene who robbed us? What if it was him dressed up in a fright mask? He could have got one of his friends to help. What if it was Dave?! No. I’m losing it. What am I saying? It wasn’t either of them. It couldn’t be. I almost laugh at my paranoid delusions, but then I catch myself. Something is niggling at me, trying to push its way into the light. But it vanishes before I can get a grip on it.

I get to my feet. I need to talk to Robert. That’s a priority. I need to ask him if Gene had anything to do with this. I would ask Gene himself but he’s conveniently gone AWOL.

‘I guess I should go bury him,’ Hannah says, and I startle, then realize she’s talking about the hamster, lying dead on the carpet at my feet.

‘I’ll do it,’ I tell her, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought.

‘Are you sure?’ Hannah asks.

I nod absently.

‘OK, well, I’ll go finish clearing up my room then.’ She pauses by the door and then comes over and hugs me. ‘I love you, Mom,’ she says, her breath warm against my neck.

‘I love you too,’ I say, wrapping my arms around her and breathing in deep.

‘Can I come to the hospital with you later to see June?’ she asks. ‘I want to bring her things.’

I nod and wait until she’s left the room before I sink to the floor again. With the bear clutched in one hand, I stroke my other hand over the bloodstained carpet.

There’s only one thing I know for sure. Whoever did this to June, whoever is involved, whether it’s Gene or a stranger, I’m going to find out and I’m going to make them pay.

Chapter 30

‘Do you really want to do this?’ Laurie asks me.

I nod, my eyes fixed on the golden Corona sign hanging in the blacked-out window of the bar we’re parked opposite. This area of Oxnard is a no-go zone at night. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t come here even in broad daylight because of all the tweakers and muggings. But these aren’t normal circumstances.

‘Ava, I’m not sure this is a good idea,’ Laurie says as I get out of the car.

I slam the door shut and start marching towards the bar, clutching my purse against my side and