Page 541 of The Sinner: James

She goes quiet, having a hard time holding my eyes.

“I know what you must think,” she says. “I wasn’t a good mother to James, and now I’m doing a bad job when it comes to his brother as well.”

For a moment, I reflect on how her choices affected my life and shaped my first years with James.

I’m sure she didn’t plan it that way, but that’s how life works.

Her life choices had a domino effect that rippled through our lives.

But who am I to judge?

I did the same thing when I tore my family apart, affecting their lives and setting everybody on new paths. Myself included.

Much harm had been done out of ignorance and, ironically, my desire to do the right thing.

She probably tried to do her best, as James reiterated so many times, but her doing her best screwed up other people’s lives.

Why does it matter what I think about her?

“You did everything you could, but sometimes things just don’t work out.”

Her eyes spend a few moments on my face as she muses over something.

“Besides, I’m not the best person to judge,” I say. “I’m sure there were factors you had no control over.”

“I guess,” she says, smiling faintly. “Anyway... So that’s what happened. Tiago flew to Rome to meet my ex-husband and the Italian part of his family. They spent a couple of days together before he left. According to my ex-husband, Tiago bought a ticket for Lisbon. My ex-husband drove him to the airport. According to the police, he’d never made it to the plane or boarded another flight. And that was that. No one has seen him or heard from him ever since.”

The silence grows as I try to find something reassuring to say.

She speaks again.

“Does James know that you’re here?”

“He doesn’t,” I say, feeling bad for showing up uninvited, dragging my own problems into this.

In my defense, I didn’t know what I’d find here.

“So, what is the plan now?” I ask.

She shifts her eyes to me.

“James’ people try to track him down. Police have been involved as well. No one knows whether he left Italy or not. If he did, he must’ve used a fake passport again. That’s what Thomas says.”

Her expression changes as she pivots in her seat and picks up her phone.

“I’ll be flying back in a couple of hours,” she says, checking her phone screen. “There’s nothing I can do right now.”

Her voice is tense, relaying the kind of stress she is experiencing right now.

“He’s probably fine,” I say, listening to my gut feeling.

A dash of hope colors her gaze.

“You think so?”.

“Yes, I do,” I murmur, trying to figure out what has prompted me to say that.

I only met Tiago once.

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