Page 118 of I Will Find You

“I didn’t,” she says. “Not ever.”

“How could you think I did it?”

“I never blamed you. Not really.”

I open my mouth to ask again why she stopped believing in me, but I make myself stop. Again: Now is not the time to go down that road. Stay focused.

“He’s alive,” I say a little more firmly, and then: “It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. I need to ask you something. Then I’ll leave you be.”

The pity on her face is so cruel. “What is it, David? What do you need from me?”

“Your visit to Berg Reproductive,” I say.

The pity turns to confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“That clinic, the one you visited.”

“What about it?”

“It has something to do with what happened to Matthew.”

She takes a step back. “What…no, it doesn’t.”

“That picture Rachel showed you? It was taken at a company event. For Berg Reproductive. It’s connected.”

Cheryl shakes her head. “No.”

I say nothing.

“How can you think that?”

“Just tell me, Cheryl.”

“You know everything.”

“You didn’t tell me you pretended to be Rachel.”

“She told you that?”

No need for me to reply.

“I don’t understand.” Again, Cheryl’s eyes squeeze shut, as though she’s wishing it all away. “What does that matter now?” Her voice is more a plea than a question. The pain is growing, consuming her. I want to offer some kind of comfort, even now, even after all this, but there isn’t a chance I’m going to do that. “I should have never gone to that clinic.”

I say nothing.

“It’s all my fault,” she says.

I don’t like the timbre in her voice; it drops the room temperature ten degrees.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I went there behind your back. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

I almost wince. “Cheryl.”

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