Other plans for them. Instructions. It feels like a punch to the throat, the heart, the gut.

She can’t be here. She’s dead. But she clearly wasn’t. Could she have survived? Maybe she had a pulse and Iris, in her panic, thought she didn’t. And did Marland sound like a drug entrepreneur? No. He sounded like a hired muscle, not some drug kingpin taking over a territory.

And Anya…she killed Danielle. Or had her killed, perhaps by Marland. And she set in motion a terrible vengeance, a hand from the grave, cold, closing its grip on their happy lives.

“Mrs. Pollitt?” Peter sounds nervous.

Iris finds her voice. “Did you…? Did you copy any of this to your computer when you broke into it?”

“No,” Peter says after a moment.

“I have to go,” she says. “Don’t call the police. Please. Please don’t. I…” What could she say? How could she explain? This was something else. She could not tell the police the why of this. This woman whose death we covered up has come after us. Because it was more than that. It was mother versus mother.

What does she want?

Well, vengeance, but what would that mean when the Pollitts were destroyed?

That woman wants Grant. He’ll never go with her. Never with some stranger.

She imagines the words, spoken in the soft broken English: Grant, I am your real mother. Your true blood. Look what has happened to your family. Let me help you. But I need to tell you the truth about what your parents did to me. You deserve to know the truth. They stole you from me.

Iris runs out the door.

67

Grant

Grant’s phone is dead. Something’s wrong with it. He just charged it recently. He goes into the den. The TV is still on. The national news media has picked up that an Austin-area man and his daughter have both been detained for questioning in a pair of murders. Wait, he thinks, until they hear that his mother is a well-known songwriter. Then it will be on the entertainment channels.

Within minutes the local press have set up again outside his house. He keeps the curtains drawn, stays away from the windows. They’ve rung the doorbell and he ignores it.

Grant sits down on the floor. His sister is arrested. His father is arrested. His mother has lost her mind, trying to do something to find a way to clear them both when she should be hiring more lawyers. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t talk to his friends about this, or their parents. With his friends he talks sports and video games and homework, and this is so far beyond that.

He turns off the TV as soon as they show a picture of his father. His face feels hot, like he needs to cry. He goes to his computer.