Page 120 of Make Them Bleed
39
Juno
The seventy-two hours crawl.
We keep our promise: no episode drops, no posts, no bait. Arrow deletes the draft I wrote at 2 a.m. with shaking hands and the titleEveryone Knows What You Did. I don’t argue. I color. I eat because he puts food in front of me and stares until I chew. We sleep in shifts that look like naps.
Day one, Bob resigns. The statement hits at 4:52 p.m., two paragraphs of “time with family” and “gratitude for the opportunity.” He doesn’t sayethics revieworoutside pressureorI’m sorry.Karen calls me, voice tight.
“Did you know?” she asks.
“Not all of it,” I say. “I knew enough.”
She breathes for a long time. “I have casseroles in the freezer,” she says. “That always felt like a joke about grief. Now it isn’t.”
Day two, I meet Chloe in a beige room with a metal table and write out, in my own hand, what happened on the dock and onthe boat. I put down the names: Coleman. Etta. Bob. I put downD4andLaurel Nine. I sign. She slides me water and nothing like pity.
“You’ll see movement soon,” she says.
Day three, my phone buzzes at 7:11 a.m.
Chloe: Today.
Where should I not be.
Chloe: Your mother’s street.
I’m across it already.
Arrow is with me, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes on every moving thing. We stand behind a maple tree and watch my childhood block come awake: sprinklers, a jogger who always waves, Mrs. Delaney dragging her trash can in slippers.
Two unmarked sedans roll to the curb in front of my old house. A marked car parks behind them. Another one drifts past and circles like it’s looking for an address. No sirens. No gun belts on display. Nice and quiet.
Chloe steps out of the first sedan in that navy blazer and T-shirt again. (Different slogan:NO ONE IS ABOVE THE RULES. I try not to smile, and I fail.) A plainclothes partner I’ve never met flanks her. They walk up the path like they’re delivering mail.
The door opens. Bob stands there in a polo and a stunned expression. I can’t hear what Chloe says, but I see the way she keeps her hands visible and calm. I see his mouth shapethe wordnow?She nods once. He turns his head and says something into the hallway.
My mother appears behind him, robe tied hard, hair down. She sees Chloe. She sees the cars. She looks across the street. She sees me. For a second she doesn’t move at all, like a photo. Then she straightens her shoulders and nods once to me, a signal I don’t understand yet and will probably unpack for the rest of my life.
Chloe reads from a paper. Words I do catch:conspiracy, kidnapping, obstruction, solicitation, wire fraud. She doesn’t saymurder.Not yet. She does sayaccessoryandafter the factandaggravated assault. She turns Bob gently, cuffs him, and asks if he understands.
He nods, dazed. He looks at Karen again. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t touch him. She steps back so the officers can come in. When they bring him out, she follows as far as the porch and stops.
He sees me across the street. For a second he looks like a man trying to find a new meaning offamilyand not liking any of the definitions. Then the car door opens, and he ducks his head, and then he’s gone.
Karen folds her arms around herself. I start to move and Arrow catches my sleeve. “Let her come to you,” he says.
She does. She crosses the street, robe flapping, slippers silent. She stops in front of me and puts both hands on my face like she’s checking for fever.
“You told the truth,” she says. “I raised you to tell the truth. I hate this and I love you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize.” She looks at Arrow. “Do not let her do stupid things alone.”
“I won’t,” he says. “I haven’t.”
She nods, like that tracks with what she’s guessed, and then goes back across the street to talk to Chloe. They stand shoulder to shoulder like women looking at a fire.
