Chapter 8: What She Did Next
Robert had been right about the timeline.
Claire moved on the third day.
Emmett called me at half past two in the afternoon, his voice controlled in the way that means the opposite of calm.
"She took Margot from school."
I was already standing.
"What?"
"The school called me.
Claire went in at lunch, said there was a family emergency, signed her out.
She's listed as an emergency contact — I added her three months ago." A pause.
"I can't reach her.
Her phone goes to voicemail."
"Where would she go?"
"I don't know.
I'm calling Robert.
I'm calling the police.
I just — I needed to tell you."
"I'll come to you."
"No.
Stay near your phone.
If she contacts you —"
"She won't contact me."
"If she does." He hung up.
I stood in my hallway with my coat half on and my heart going at a speed I hadn't felt in years.
Margot.
Five years old.
Pink dress.
Standing on my feet on the dance floor.
*Is Daddy going to be okay?*
I called Gary.
He'd already heard from Emmett.
He was on his way to Emmett's house.
I sat down.
I stood back up.
I went to the kitchen and stood at the window and looked at Phoebe's rose bush and told myself that Emmett was handling it, Robert was handling it, and that the best thing I could do was stay calm and stay available.
My phone rang forty minutes later.
Unknown number.
"Hello?"
A small voice.
"Grandpa?"
My whole body went still.
"Margot.
Where are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm at a hotel.
Claire said we're going on a trip." A pause.
"But I don't want to go on a trip.
I want to go home."
"Is Claire with you right now?"
"She's in the bathroom."
"Okay.
Can you see the name of the hotel anywhere?
On a card, or on the TV?"
A rustling sound.
"It says…
Riverside.
Riverside Inn."
"Good girl.
You're doing so well.
I want you to stay on the phone with me, okay?
Don't hang up."
"Okay." Then, quieter: "Grandpa, I'm scared."
"I know.
But you're safe.
And Daddy is coming."
I was already texting Emmett with my other hand.
*Riverside Inn.
She has Margot.
Margot called me.
She's okay.*
His reply came in seconds.
*On it.
Keep her on the line.*
"Margot," I said.
"Tell me about the room.
Is there a window?"
"Yes.
There's a parking lot."
"Good.
Can you see any cars?"
"Lots of cars."
"Okay.
You're doing great." I kept my voice even, warm, ordinary — the voice I used when she was sick and needed to believe that everything was going to be fine.
"Tell me something.
What did you have for lunch today?"
A small pause.
"A sandwich.
Tuna.
I don't really like tuna."
"I know you don't.
Next time you come over I'll make you ham."
"With the crusts cut off?"
"With the crusts cut off."
I heard the bathroom door in the background.
Claire's voice: "Who are you talking to?"
Margot didn't answer.
"Margot.
Give me the phone."
A shuffling sound.
Then Claire's voice in my ear, very controlled.
"She's fine.
We're just taking a little trip."
"Claire," I said.
"Emmett knows where you are.
Robert knows where you are.
The police have been called.
Whatever you thought was going to happen next — it isn't going to happen."
A long silence.
"I just wanted some time with her," she said.
"That's all.
I'm her stepmother."
"You've been her stepmother for three days.
And you took her from school without telling her father."
Another silence.
"Bring her home," I said.
"Right now.
That's the only thing that matters."
I heard her breathing.
Then: "She was going to be mine.
I would have been good to her."
"Claire."
"I would have."
"Bring her home."
The line went quiet for a long moment.
Then Margot's voice came back.
"Grandpa?"
"I'm here, sweetheart."
"She's getting our coats."
I closed my eyes.
"Good.
You're coming home."
Emmett was waiting in the hotel car park when Claire's car pulled in twenty minutes later.
Two police officers stood with him.
Robert was on the phone nearby.
Claire got out of the car.
She looked at Emmett.
She looked at the officers.
She looked at Robert.
She didn't look at me.
Margot ran across the car park and threw herself at her father.
He caught her and held her and didn't let go for a long time.
Claire was taken aside by the officers.
I heard her say, once, "I wasn't going anywhere," and then she stopped talking.
Emmett looked at me over Margot's head.
May you like
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
