Page 45 of The Vacancy In Room 10

“Well, just a couple times when we were hanging out and that’s what she insisted on doing. She kind of let it go when she saw him with some woman.”

“What do you mean? What woman?”

“Oh, shit. I guess I assumed you were divorced or something since he lived in the ghetto apartments by himself and had a girlfriend,” she says carelessly, and I don’t explain that he didn’t live there or that we weren’t divorced.

“What woman?” I ask again.

“Some old woman, dark hair, kinda thin, a long dress... That’s all I remember.”

“Old, how old?” I ask, my mind reeling, thinking of everyone who lives at The Sycamores.

“I don’t know fifty, sixty...”

“Sixty!” I say in disbelief, trying to wrap my brain around who this could be.

“I don’t know, old people look the same to me. How old are you?” she asks.

“Thirty-six,” I say sharply.

“Well, she was probably around that then—she looked about your age.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, and take in a deep breath. “So why do you think this old woman was his girlfriend?” I ask, hoping she has an actual reason and hoping she doesn’t, all at the same time.

“When we were watching the place, we’d sometimes sit on the lawn chairs by the grills on the side of the building, you know, when the mean apartment manager was gone, and we saw him with this chick. They were kissing, and they looked around like they were making sure nobody saw, and then we watched them go up to his apartment and close the door. Mira was super pissed. Like, enraged, but she started to sort of give up after that and become my normal friend again. So I don’t know... That’s all I really got. Probably not super helpful, but I’d be pissed, too, if some chick was after my husband,” she says, stuffing the hundred and nine bucks into her pocket and standing. “Welp.” She shakes some cigarette ash off her top and smooths her bun with one hand. “Later.” And then she shoves her hands in her pockets and starts back in the direction of the Dairy Queen.

I suppose I’m grateful for this conversation, because a very big part of me refused to believe Henry would be in love with a student. Even though I feel like I know very little about him anymore, I still know his character, and so I believe this girl’s story. It’s an explanation that makes sense, and it’s time to focus my attention elsewhere. I don’t know where yet, but I’m crossing this off my list for now.

On my drive back to The Sycamores, I think about everyone in and out of the place. Dark hair, thin. Cass comes back to mind. Who else fits the bill? Maybe the person doesn’t live at The Sycamores, but it feels like they must.

I avoid crossing the pool deck to reach the staircase up to my unit, because the pool girls are all perched in their usual positions with the kids lying about, and I don’t want thank-you’s or questions or small talk right now. They can talk to Cass themselves. I just want to think. I need time to put this together because I somehow feel like the pieces are all right in front of me, but I’m not seeing them.

I skirt around the perimeter of the building and step quietly up to my unit when I look down and really notice Rosa for the first time. She’s easy to overlook because she’s so quiet, but she has that mysterious aura about her. Shy eyes, a slight accent, private and polite, and attractive even though she seems to go out of her way to wear no makeup and keep her ropes of long dark hair in a braid behind her back. Long dresses. Thin.

She’s the kind of woman Henry would want to try to help. What if he saw the abuse, too, and stuck his nose in? What if that Eddie guy found out about a relationship between Rosa and Henry? Holy shit. My heart starts thumping and my chest blooms with heat. That could make sense. That could fit.

I stare another few moments, unseen by the others, and then turn to go inside, when I see another small package in front of my door. I gasp and take a step away from it, remembering the maggots, and my gag reflex threatens to betray me. I slam my sneaker down hard on top of the box to crush it before anything can crawl out of it, and then kick it aside with a mix of horror and relief.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rosa, down below, give me a small smile.

Did she just happen to notice me and was being polite, or is this a threat?

18

CASS

Callum has been texting me since last night. Of course, I get it. I understand it, but I think Anna saw his many missed calls in the car, and that looks bad. We are supposed to be keeping a low profile, and he has no ability to be cool.

I text back that I’m fine and will see him soon in a light, nonsuspicious way just in case. I cannot believe he thought calling me like that was smart. Of course I can’t say anything meaningful over text, but I try to give him something—nothing to worry about. Just my ex’s psycho girlfriend causing trouble. That’s it. I promise, I say back so he has at least some information that lets him know we are not both prison-bound and this isn’t about Eddie.

We both know we have to wait until dark tonight before we can make our move, and somehow I have to get through this entire day knowing there’s a body baking in the trunk of my car and the night ahead of me will be the hardest of my life.

The girls are playing cards poolside when Anna drops me off, and they start to clap when they see me.

“Girrrrl, you took that bitch down,” Jackie says.

“Are you okay?” Rosa asks, cooling herself with a paper fan and pulling out a chair for me to sit.

“Sorry about last night. Yeah, I’m fine.”

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