Chapter 13 - Nora Had Been Talking To Ava Again
The number belonged to Nora.
Not her regular phone.
She admitted it before I finished accusing her.
“Yes.”
I stared across the dojo.
“Why use another number?”
“Because I knew you would hand mine to police, your mother, Walter, anyone you thought might help.”
I hated that she was probably right.
“You've been texting me.”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why not just talk to me?”
“Because I wanted to see what you did with information before I gave you more.”
My anger rose.
“You tested me.”
“Yes.”
“That's manipulative.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
“Why?”
“Because Ava asked whether you were still like your father.”
The sentence hit.
“Meaning?”
“Whether no would make you push harder.”
I laughed bitterly.
“And your solution was to hide behind a number and feed me questions.”
“Yes.”
“You don't hear it?”
“I do now.”
Good.
“Is Ava alive?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
I sat.
Walter gripped the back of a chair.
Mason turned away.
Even after everything, the word had physical weight.
“Have you spoken to her recently?”
“Yes.”
“How recently?”
“Last week.”
My eyes filled.
“Where is she?”
“No.”
I laughed through tears.
“Of course.”
Nora did not apologize for that one.
“Does she know I'm here?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you to take the box?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The building sale.”
Of course.
Walter's dojo lease was ending in six months.
Ava knew.
“How?”
“Nora.”
Mason muttered.
I glared.
Nora continued:
“She didn't want old personal material turning up during demolition.”
“Why not ask Walter?”
“She doesn't trust Walter with private things.”
Walter looked away.
Fair.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Nora took a breath.
“Because this wasn't supposed to become contact.”
“What changed?”
“You.”
I stared.
“That sounds flattering. Don't.”
“It isn't.”
Good.
“You found Kayla.”
“Yes.”
“You had enough information to expose why she was under there.”
“I didn't.”
“You could have.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't.”
“Because it wasn't mine.”
Nora continued:
“Then the inspector came. You let the room be disclosed without naming the people who had used it.”
“Yes.”
“You let Mason apologize without turning it into reconciliation.”
“Yes.”
“Stop grading me.”
Nora almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Then:
“Ava asked what you did when you learned she left voluntarily.”
My throat tightened.
“What did you say?”
“That you got angry.”
“Great.”
“At yourself too.”
I looked down.
“And?”
“That you called Claire.”
“And?”
“That you didn't go on social media announcing you found a secret shelter under the dojo.”
I laughed softly.
“I considered murder first.”
Walter almost smiled.
Nora didn't.
“She also asked about Daniel.”
My throat tightened.
“What did you tell her?”
“That you know he let her leave that night.”
Silence.
Then:
“And that Claire told you about the call after his death.”
I stared at the floor.
“What did Ava say?”
Nora took a long time.
“Nothing for almost a day.”
My eyes burned.
“Then?”
“She asked whether you hate her.”
Same question.
Years later.
“What did you say?”
“That she should ask you.”
Good.
Finally someone pushed the question toward the person who owned the answer.
“Will she?”
“I don't know.”
I closed my eyes.
“Nora.”
“What?”
“I need one thing.”
“If it's a location, no.”
“It isn't.”
She waited.
“Tell her I don't hate her.”
Nora said nothing.
“Tell her I'm angry.”
Walter looked at me.
I continued:
“Tell her I want answers.”
Mason looked down.
“And tell her I will not come looking if she says not to.”
My voice shook on that sentence.
Nora knew.
I knew.
Five years earlier, I couldn't have promised it.
Maybe two years earlier either.
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“Okay.”
“Will you tell Mom?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you told me to tell Ava.”
Good.
Mine.
Not family distribution.
Nora ended the call.
Walter sat.
Mason leaned against the wall.
Nobody spoke.
Then Walter said:
“What happens now?”
I looked at the hatch.
The bracelet.
The rolled mats.
Everything I had treated as if it contained my sister.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You lock the building.”
“Then?”
“I go home.”
Mason looked surprised.
“You're leaving?”
“Yes.”
“What about Ava?”
I stared at him.
May you like
“She knows where I am.”
For once, I was going to let that be enough for one night.
