Page 61 of Did You See Evie

The officer spoke with Coach Phillips first.

Turns out, our plan had worked, but only for so long. My father drank the Jack Daniel’s, as he always did, but at some point he must have figured out I wasn’t home. When he did, he was so angry he hopped in his car.

What he didn’t know, and what the police never found out, is that he had sleeping pills in his system mixed with the alcohol. He passed out behind the wheel and ran a red light. The officers assumed, given his history, he’d only been drunk.

The officer wasn’t there to arrest me for drugging my father.

He was there to tell me my father was in the hospital, along with the woman and small child in the other car that he hit.

THIRTY-TWO

The car is silent.

I’m sure Nadia is lost in her own thoughts, the same game of woulda, coulda, shoulda she must torture herself with every time she sees her daughter. She said she goes out of her way to see her, but why? Why does she inflict this torture on herself? Then again, I can’t imagine being in Nadia’s predicament or how she must feel.

I remain silent, thinking again about the secret that bonds us together. Nadia and I never told anyone what we did to my father, that we’re the ones who caused his crash. It was an impulsive decision that forever changed the course of my life.

“Have you ever told anyone about what we did back then?”

Nadia fixes me with a perplexed stare. “Of course not. I’d never tell anyone about that.”

And yet, hadn’t she been insinuating she’d let the truth come out if I refused to help her? As usual, I’m not sure which Nadia I can rely on. The girl who helped me when I needed her most, or the woman who threatened to use my deepest secret against me.

Finally, as we’re nearing the entrance to the school, I say, “You should come over for dinner.”

Nadia doesn’t answer right away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make me feel better because you feel sorry for me.”

Truth is, I do feel guilty, but not because of what Nadia has revealed to me. Rather, I’m ashamed of myself, that I judged her so harshly without ever considering what else she might have gone through. Since the moment she re-entered my life, I’ve judged Nadia through the same lens I’ve always used: a woman out for herself against all odds and at all costs.

What she’s just revealed to me juxtaposes that view. In giving her child up for adoption, Nadia has, arguably, done the most selfless thing a person can do. A mother can do. Choosing her child’s well-being over her own. It proves there are layers to my old friend I’ve yet to see.

“You’d be doing me a favor,” I say, recalling our tense argument about his conversation with the cops. “Things have been tense at home since Evie’s disappearance. It would be nice to have an icebreaker.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Nadia raises an eyebrow.

“Connor is a good man.” I have no intention of telling Nadia that Connor lied to the police. At the same time, I can’t figure out why Connor misspoke in the first place. It seems so unlike him. “It’s just stressful. On all of us.”

I leave Nadia’s car and enter my own. She follows me the short distance to my house. My eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, wondering if she’ll change her mind and take off in a different direction. But she doesn’t.

When we arrive, Nadia gets out of the car, her eyes appraising the two-bedroom house. I can almost read her mind as her gaze lands on the red front door, then the pristine white fence, stopping on the gray cobblestone walkway.

“How quaint,” she says, hands in her pockets. “Very cutesy.”

“It was a fixer upper when I first got it,” I say. “I’ve been updating it as I can through the years.”

“Must be nice having a man around to do the heavy lifting.”

“Connor isn’t much of a handyman,” I admit. “I did most of the renovations myself before he moved in.”

“You didn’t buy the place together?” Nadia asks. She sounds surprised.

I shake my head, turning the key inside the lock. “I bought this place ages ago. Connor only moved in after we got engaged.”

Nadia doesn’t say anything, but I catch an expression on her face. She’s impressed. It’s easy for her to write me off as the other half now. Engaged to a wealthy man, head position at a lofty private school. And yet, I’ve managed to hold tight to my independence. I have layers, too.

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